Samantha Potter and the Search for the Past
by Heather Sinclair
Summary: (Chap. 5 New!) The Grangers take HHr's newborn daughter to America after their deaths. It's eleven years later and Dobby comes calling. Not a all powerful, all beautiful Mary Sue
1. Default Chapter

Samantha Potter

and the Search for the Past 

by

Heather Sinclair

Heather@buffysboudoir.com

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Spoilers: Order of the Phoenix

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Pairings: UOC

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Rating: PG-13 Parents Strongly Cautioned.  
This story contains some material that many parents would find unsuitable for children under 13 years of age. Parents are strongly urged to exercise greater care in, and are cautioned against letting children under the age of 13 read this story unattended. This story contains one or more of the following: **intense violence, intense sexual situations, strong coarse language, or intensely suggestive dialogue.**

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Disclaimer: This story, and any content relating to the Harry Potter franchise is not authorized by J.K. Rowling, or Scholastic Press. I own my computer ... Can I have Harry and Hermione instead?

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Read the story in the author's intended format at 

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Fonts: This story is best viewed with the following fonts: "Harry P", and "Lumos". They can be found at Mugglenet.com in the downloads section. The story is written in "Garamond".

It was 102 degrees in the shade of the live oak tree. The air conditioner had gone on the fritz only the night before and Samantha Potter was laying on a chaise lounge, outside, trying desperately to catch a light breeze across her sweat-soaked body. 

Her grandparents, Hilbert and Joann Granger, were busy at their dentistry practice only two miles down the road in a suburb of Houston, Texas. Samantha's two closest friends were out of town on vacation and she was all alone for the first time all summer. 

"I'm so bored," she sighed to herself. "What I wouldn't give for some excitement ... someone to talk to ... a boyfriend ... a decent air conditioner. I'd even settle for a decent glass of lemonade."

"As you wish, Mistress Potter," came a somewhat squeaky voice to her left. 

Samantha jerked so fast to the side that she fell off the chaise lounge to the neatly trimmed grass below and screamed high and short. Before her stood a creature of about three feet in height with a olive toned skin, overly-large eyes, and large pointy ears.

It jumped back at the high pitched scream and held out it's dangly, boney hands and backed away. "Dobby is sorry for scaring Mistress Potter. Dobby did not mean to ..." it paused and ran over to the side of the house to repeatedly slam its head onto the siding. "Bad, Dobby. You is scaring your mistress. The daughter of the greatest wizard of all."

After repeated slamming of his head he slowed and gazed around with unfocused eyes. Samantha looked tentatively at the small elflike creature from behind the relative safety of the overturned lounge. 

"Please, Mistress Potter, Dobby humbly offers his most humblest apologies."

Samantha's eyes widened as she didn't feel in danger despite the appearance of something that she had only read about in books. Perhaps this was a mutant child ... a neighbor from down the street or something. Or maybe this kid had lived near a nuclear reactor all of his life and this is what happened. 

"Um ... what are you doing in my back yard?" she asked tentatively. 

The green creature waved a hand and it looked as if something appeared there a second later, an envelope. "I is delivering your letter from Hogwarts, Mistress." He waved his other hand and a larger envelope appeared. "And I is delivering a letter from Mistress's father."

That made Samantha's head pop up from behind the lounge. "My ... father?"

The green creature smiled. "Yes, Mistress, your father, the great Harry Potter, the greatest of all wizards."

Samantha sat up and blinked. "Wizard?"

Dobby nodded and looked up at the sky, shrinking away from the heat of the sun. 

Samantha noticed. "Does the sun bother you?"

The creature smiled weakly. "Dobby doesn't mind suffering the sun if he's getting the chance to meet the daughter of the great Harry Potter."

Samantha grabbed her wrap and tied it around the lower half of her body in latent modesty. "We can go inside if you like."

She got up and tried to keep the little creature in her eyesight as they made their way through the French doors into the oppressing heat of the breakfast room. 

"Does Mistress enjoy the heat?" The creature asked wearily.

Samantha sighed. "No, and why do you keep calling me Mistress. My name is Samantha."

"Because, Mistress, it would be unseemly for a house-elf to address his Mistress by any other name." He waved his hand and the air around the house noticeably cooled at least thirty degrees. 

Samantha felt like she had stepped into a refrigerator. It was heaven. She relished the cool feeling for a moment, but the weirdness of the situation found itself in the forefront of her brain. "House-elf?"

The creature nodded. "Yes, Mistress. Dobby is the Potter family house-elf for thirteen years now, Mistress."

"Dobby ... is that your name?"

"Yes, Mistress." He inched closer and held out the letter that he claimed was from Harry Potter, her father.

She looked at it as if it might all be a dream. "Is it really from him?"

Dobby straightened up and looked proud. "Harry Potter is trusting me with his last wish eleven years ago, young Mistress. He says to make sure you get this letter from him at the same time as you gets your Hogwarts letter." He held up the other envelope. "And this is your Hogwarts letter."

She took it from him as well, looking at the elaborate script on the front of the envelope.

__

Miss Samantha Potter

783 Laurel Drive

Katy, Texas

U.S.A.

Back Yard, Under the Live Oak Tree 

"Okay, that's just weird."

The other envelope was in almost normal script.

__

Samantha Potter 

To be delivered upon receipt of 

acceptance to Hogwarts

She looked up at Dobby who was standing closer to her. "Um ... would you like something to drink."

Dobby looked at her with reverence and awe. "You are as kind and noble as Harry Potter to offer a simple house-elf a drink and not to think of your own needs first."

Dobby waved his hand and two glasses appeared in front of them filled with a orange liquid Samantha assumed was orange juice.   


"How ... how did you do that?" she goggled.

"Magic, Mistress."

She stared at the overly large eyes of the house-elf. "Magic. Yes, Mistress."

Samantha stuck her nail under the wax seal of the letter from her father and broke open the letter that had been waiting for eleven years.

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Dearest Samantha,

As I sit here at my desk watching your mother sleep, I can only guess what you will be like. I've fantasized about you having your mother's beautiful face and my crazy hair, or perhaps you will have my love of Quidditch and your mother's love of books. But no matter who you turn out to look like or what your interests will be, know that have loved you from the moment I heard you were conceived, and I will always love you. I will always be looking out for you.

I'm sure your mother will tell you all about me or perhaps your Uncle Ron and Aunt Luna will recount stories of our times at Hogwarts for you to enjoy. They were my most favorite of times and I want you to know about everything. Don't be afraid to ask questions, love. 

I suppose you are wondering why you are receiving this letter now instead of years ago. 

It's time to start your education and if you are old enough to learn about magic then you are old enough to know about what happened to me.

For the entire story I will direct you to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. He alone will probably tell you the unbiased truth. I'm sure your mother will fill your head with heroic tales and that is not the entire story. Tell Dumbledore to tell you "all" of the truth. I was old enough then and you are old enough now.

I made sure to send him a letter as well, with Dobby, telling him to quit screwing around and teach you like I was taught in the end. You will need to be prepared for what awaits you. For this I am truly sorry. You will have to contend with being famous. But look at it this way, At least you won't have people staring at your forehead all of your life.

I'm off to face Voldemort in a few minutes. I know I will defeat him. I have too. This letter is just in case the unexpected should happen. I wish I could see your smiling face before I go, but your mother is still a few weeks from term, with you sitting inside her. 

Take care of your mother for me, Samantha. I love her more than life itself, and I love you the same. 

Say hello to Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, Pomfrey, and Sprout, and Hagrid for me when you see them. Tell them thanks for teaching me what I needed to know.

Tell Snape that if he so much as says a impolite word to you that I'll come back from the dead and haunt him for the rest of his days. 

Tell Mooney to give you the map and the cloak. Use them well.

Tell Hagrid thanks for saving me from the Muggles.

Tell Ron and Luna to let you stay with them whenever you want. You can trust them with anything. Tell Ron to teach you Quidditch. I want to see you on Gryffindor team no later than second year. Tell him to get you the best broom (Don't trust this to your mother, Ron knows better.) Don't tell Mum I said that.

And tell Ron to make sure you get everything your heart desires at Diagon Alley and take what he needs from your vault. If I can't be there to spoil you then he will. 

It's almost time. 

I wish, more than anything else, to be a part of your life as hearing about your mother being pregnant was the happiest moment of mine.

I love you, Samantha. Always remember that.

Your father,

Harry Potter

Samantha set the letter down and wiped at her eyes. 

"There's more, Mistress."

She looked up at Dobby who was peering sorrowfully at her. 

"In the envelope."

She picked it up, felt a weight inside then flipped it over and watched as a key fell onto the table. She picked it up and looked at the attached tag that was hanging from the end. 

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Vault 687

"What's this?"

Dobby smiled. "It's the key to your vault at Gringott's Wizarding Bank."

"Vault?"

"Samantha we're home!"

She heard the voice of her Grandfather coming from the front of the house. It was only moments before her grandparents made their way to the kitchen.

"Did the air conditioner fix itself or something? Don't think it's felt this good since ..."

The Grangers stopped the second they saw Dobby and looked on in abject horror. "No ..." her grandfather said under his breath. "It can't be. They couldn't have found us. We're on the other bleeding side of the world. No."

Samantha knew something was wrong. Her grandfather never slipped into his English accent except when he was mad or scared, and this time he looked scared.

"Grandpa?" asked Samantha.

In response all she received was, "What is he doing here?"

Dobby bravely stepped forward. "You is thinking you is sneaky moving Harry Potter's daughter, but Dobby is sneakier. Dobby always knows where she is."

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Hilbert Granger closed on Samantha. "You aren't going back there to that insanity."

"Stop!" Dobby yelled and held up his hand. "You is not stopping Harry Potter's daughter from her destiny."

Joann Granger looked on with a sadness in her eyes as her husband was magically held in place. "Dobby, let him go please."

Samantha was frozen in shock. "You know, Dobby."

Joann nodded. "He was your mother and father's house-elf."

Samantha looked back and forth between everyone. "So it's true then ... I'm a witch?"

Joann walked slowly over to table and saw the Hogwarts letter unopened. "If you received one of these then it's true."

They heard a grunt from behind them, and Samantha turned to the house-elf. "Dobby, would you please let him go." 

No sooner than her request was finished her Grandfather was released. 

"I is asking, Mistress to choose what she wishes to bring with her to Grimmauld Place, and Dobby will pack."

Joann looked at Dobby. "She's leaving now?"

"I'm what?" Samantha exclaimed.

"There is much to do, Mistress, before you go to Hogwarts."

Hilbert looked on in contained fury. "Samantha, that way of life killed your mother and father, please consider what you are doing."

She looked up. "I though you said that my mother died in childbirth?"

Joanne pulled a chair out and sat down. "She did, dear. It was your father's death that cause her to go into premature labor, and for a witch that is a very serious complication."

Her grandmother turned to Dobby. "You've attached the fireplace to the Floo Network, I suppose."

"Yes, Miss Mione's Mum."

"And you will provide us with Floo Powder?"

Dobby waved his hand and a good sized box appeared on the table. 

Hilbert stepped forward. "You aren't serious? You're letting her go?"

Joann stood. "Bert, she has to be trained, and I trust Dumbledore; you know you do too."

"She'll be alone, Jo."

Dobby shook his head. "Master Harry's Weezy will be at Grimmauld Place."

Joanne swiveled her head. "His what will be at Grimmauld Place?"

"His Weezey ... with the flaming hair."

Joann almost laughed. "Ron? Ron Weasley?"

Dobby nodded his head.

Samantha made the connection. "Daddy spoke of him in his letter, Grandma. Who is he?"

"He was your parent's best friend, darling. They met on their first trip to Hogwarts." Joanne checked her watch. "You'd better get off to your room then, and start your packing. It's getting late in England right about now."

"England? But, I don't want to go all the way over there. I'll never see you again!"

Joann took her granddaughter into her arms. "We'll be a fireplace away, darling. That's how wizards talk to each other and travel. It's magic. I'll show you how it works after you're packed. Now hurry along."

Samantha did as instructed, and after changing into something a bit more appropriate, with Dobby's help, she was able to pack only one suitcase. He cautioned her to bring warmer clothes and everything that she would miss, so she packed half of her bedroom, most of her closet, all of her shoes, and so on. What ever she pointed at, Dobby sent to the endless expanse of her suitcase. Samantha only marveled at how he was doing it. 

"Is that all, Mistress will be needing," Dobby said hopefully.

She looked around at her room thoughtfully. "I think so."

Dobby waved his hand and the suitcase disappeared. "We must hurry, Mistress; Master Harry's Weezy waits for us."

Samantha follow Dobby back down to the living room where her grandmother was on all fours with her head stuck in the fireplace amongst blazing green flames. 

"Keep her safe, Ron Weasley," she heard her say and then watched as her grandfather helped her up from the floor. 

Joann set her hair back in place and spat out some ash that she had gotten in her mouth when she saw Samantha standing feet away. "All packed?"

Samantha nodded, tearing up. Joanne closed and took her in a strong embrace. "If you need us for any reason, use the Floo. Even if you just want to talk."

Samantha nodded as she hugged back. "Yes, Ma'am."

"And do everything that Ron says; he'll be watching out for you. Grandpa and I will visit on the weekends until school starts, okay?"

They broke apart and Hilbert took his wife's place. "Just three more days sweetie and we'll see you at Grimmauld Place, okay?"

Samantha nodded once more, not trusting herself with platitudes or goodbyes.

When they broke apart Joann was standing there with the box of sparkling ash. "Take a pinch and step into the fire. It won't burn you."

Samantha did as she was told. 

"Now throw down the ash and say 'Number Twelve Grimmauld Place."

She put on a brave face for her grandparents. "I love you guys." Then she did as instructed. "Number Twelve Grimmauld Place!"

Samantha flew out of the fireplace and into Ron Weasley's arms. He stood her up properly and waited until the dizzying effects of traveling a long distance by Floo Powder wore off. 

"All right there?" he asked.

She stepped back and took in her parent's closest friend. He was extremely tall and had a weathered look about him. "Yes, Sir."

Ron laughed at that. "Never ever call me sir. That sounds like my father. I'm Ron, or if you insist on a title, Uncle Ron, although I'm not really your Uncle."

"Um ... okay."

"Ronald, quit badgering her," said a lady who she assumed was her Aunt Luna. She was about Ron's age and had an odd look about her. "You must be starving. It's dinner time where you live, isn't it."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I'm Luna," said the lady holding out her hand. Samantha shook it. "And dinner is ready for you downstairs if you like?"

She followed the Weasley's through to the hallway and admired the very cozy feel the house held. Warm colors adorned the walls and various portraits were spaced evenly ... and they were moving. 

"Your pictures ..."

Ron stopped at a portrait of a number of red-headed figures. "They're wizarding portraits. They move and they also talk to you."

"Wow."

She followed the two adults down the stairs and through the door into the basement kitchen.

_Who puts a kitchen in the basement. Wizards are really weird people._

Sitting like little angels at the really long table were two boys about Samantha's age. It was obvious that they were almost identical twins, the only difference being that one had light blond hair and the other flaming red. 

Ron turned, "Samantha, I'd like you to meet my sons. The red-head is Harry and the blonde, Arthur." He turned back. "What have you two been up to?"

They both held their hands to their heart, each looking hurt. 

"Aww, Dad you've wounded us to the core." began Harry.

"Never be able to forgive you for this one," ended Arthur.

Ron turned back. "Never under any circumstances ever eat anything these two give you."

Samantha looked nervous at the warning. 

"They wouldn't hurt you, but they are the worst practical jokers since their uncles Fred and George."

"Worst. I say, Arthur, I think we've been insulted."

"Worst indeed, Harry. It's a sad day in the Weasley household when we can even beat out a couple of old fogies like Uncle Fred and Uncle George."

Samantha giggled at their act. She knew she was going to like these boys. 

"Help yourself to pumpkin juice and sandwiches, Samantha."

Ron grabbed one for himself and popped an end in his mouth. After only a second he was covered in owl feathers and he hooted loudly once.

"Arthur, I think it's time to run."

"Too right, Harry."

They took off out the door and up the stairs before Ron had a chance to molt. Luna could only hold her head in her hands while Samantha continued giggling. Ron's eyes were narrowed as the last of the feathers fell in a pile at his feet and he tossed the sandwich at the bin and picked up another. 

"They usually only tamper with the first one."

Luna crossed the kitchen and fluttered her wand about the rest of the food. "It's safe." Then she turned to her husband. "I do wish you would have a talk to the boys, Ronald."

He shook his head and followed Samantha with his eyes as she served herself. "Wouldn't do a bit of good, my Greek goddess. I've had experience with this. Mum used to get all over Fred and George and it only encouraged them to do their antics behind her back. At least this way we know what's going on."

She sighed dreamily. "I suppose."

"So, Samantha, how's it feel to be back in the wizarding world?"

She sat down with her food. "Um ... don't really know. I didn't find out about it until Dobby showed up."

Ron stood there with his mouth open. 

"Chew your food, dear," Luna chided her husband.

He swallowed roughly. "Didn't know? Blimey!"

Samantha shrugged her shoulders. 

"It's just like Harry all over again."

Ron and Samantha sat quietly for a few minutes while Luna left and to make sure the boys were tucked in their beds and not causing anymore trouble.

"Daddy said in his letter that you are supposed to get me a broom for ... Quiffich?"

Ron looked surprised as he sipped his pumpkin juice. "Harry, sent you a letter?"

She nodded and reached to her back pocket to retrieve the envelope.

Ron looked with eagerness in his eyes. "Do you mind ... that is, would you mind if I ..."

Samantha smiled and handed the letter to the older man. It only took a minute or two to read through since he was trying his best not to read the personal parts that were meant for the daughter of his best friend. After he was through he re-folded the parchment and stuffed it into the envelope. 

She watched as his eyes went a bit glassy and he smiled through the distant pain of remembrance. 

"It's Quidditch you're talking about, and I'd be honored to teach you everything I know. We'll go out to my parents house after we go shopping tomorrow. They have a good place to play so the Muggles won't see."

"Muggles?"

Ron nodded. "Non-magical folk."

"And I need a broom to play?" she asked. "Is there sweeping involved?"

Ron laughed and as he did the restrained tears slid down his face. "No, Samantha. You use the broom to fly."

She frowned at that. Ron wiped away at his face. "You better get off to bed. I know it's still early for you ,but we have to make an early day of it tomorrow if we're going to the Burrow."

It was almost midnight when Samantha was shooed off to bed. She knew with the time difference that she shouldn't be tired yet, but with all of the revelations that the day held she was definitely feeling the toll on her energy. 

Her room was quite large, almost twice the size of her room back home. She looked around and everything looked as if it had been unpacked and stored away neatly. The bed was turned down and the one of the two letters that started this off whole ordeal was laying on her pillow. 

She opened the letter with the seal of Hogwarts on the back.

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Hogwarts School 

of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall

(Order of Merlin, First Class)

Dear Miss Potter,

We are please to announce that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Remus Lupin,

Deputy Headmaster 

Samantha frowned. _They await my owl? And from the looks of things this Dumbledore he spoke of wasn't the headmaster of the school anymore._

She wasn't surprised. It had been eleven years and a lot can change in that span of time. She hoped nothing had happened to him, as her father sounded like he was the only one who would give her the straight up story about her parents and what really happened.

She set the first page on the nightstand and read the supplies list from the second. 

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Hogwarts School 

of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Uniform

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils clothes should carry name tags

Course Books

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

Samantha took note of the different titles and the additional items, most importantly, she noted, included a wand. _And I can bring an owl, cat, or a toad_. A toad? _Ewwww. Maybe I can bring a cat._

At that thought she heard a sharp tapping at the bedroom window. Samantha looked up and standing at her windowsill was the most beautiful snowy owl. She hurried over and stared at it through the window as it starred back and then with an irritated look in it's eyes, tapped again. She looked down at it's leg and saw a neatly rolled up piece of parchment.

"Are you delivering a letter?" she asked the owl through the glass.

Taking a chance that she wouldn't regret her actions, Samantha opened the window and the snowy owl hopped inside and held it's leg out with the parchment. She untied it and jumped aside as the owl flew up and perched itself on the top of the cherry-wood armoire. She looked back down at the letter and unrolled it quickly.

Dear Samantha,

It is with great pleasure that I return to you something that was left in my care for the last eleven years. The owl that delivered this message belonged to your father. Her name is Hedwig. She has been well fed and watered this evening, However I would suggest to stock up on plenty of owl treats when you shop for your school supplies tomorrow. She has grown somewhat accustom to my spoiling her. 

Hedwig is a very intelligent and well trained post-owl and was your father's constant companion for many years. Treat her well.

I will make time in my schedule at the end of the week to answer any questions you may have regarding your father and mother. Please inform Mr. Weasley to bring you by the Ministry at ten a.m. on Friday and we shall spend the day together.

Most humbly yours, 

Albus Dumbledore

Samantha looked up at the snowy owl and noticed it was watching her every movement. 

"So, you're Hedwig, huh?"

Hedwig spread her wings and dropped down to the footboard of the bed and perched exceedingly still as Samantha approached and held out her hand slowly. The owl nuzzled the back of her hand and nipped lightly at her thumb.

"You are very beautiful," she said. "Mr. Dumbledore says you used to belong to my daddy. Is that true?"

Her fingers slid back to caress the very soft feathers along the back of Hedwig's head. 

"I know from school that owls are supposed to be very protective of their young. Could you maybe watch out for me tonight. This is my first night here and I'm kinda scared."

Hedwig raised her head and hooted reassuringly. 

Samantha smiled. "Can you understand me girl?"

Hedwig hooted again, softly. 

"I'll make sure to get a lot of owl treats tomorrow, okay?"

Hedwig nuzzled once more against her hand and hopped back up to the armoire to stand guard against any intruders as Samantha prepared for bed and turned off the light. 

"Night, Hedwig. I'm glad you're here."

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	2. Lessons on How to be Spoiled

Chapter 2

Samantha awoke from the most wonderful dream she had ever had. One which she received a letter from her father and found out that he was a heroic wizard and she herself was a witch. Then her vision cleared and she saw her father's snowy owl, Hedwig perched at the footboard watching her.

"Good morning girl."

Hedwig hooted back. 

Samantha looked over at the closed window and the morning sunlight streaming through the semi-parted curtains.

"Do you want to go out to hunt?"

Hedwig hooted again and her head turned to follow her new mistress to the window. Samantha undid the clasp and open the pane.   


"I'll leave it open for you. We're going shopping today to get school supplies and some owl treats and then over to Uncle Ron's parents' house ... if you had something to do that is."

Hedwig hooted a third time and flew out the window. Samantha felt the warm air of the morning and decided to dress lightly, but first she needed a shower. She gathered her clothes and stuck her head out of her door to see if the coast was clear then sprinted barefoot to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Samantha looked in the mirror as she towel dried her hair and frowned. From the pictures that her grandparents had of her parents she knew she had inherited her father's raven color and bit of both their problem hair. Luckily with ample application of gel she was able to tame the wild curls to fall on either side of her face. 

She finished dressing and stopped once more to look at herself in the mirror. After another look she tucked her white t-shirt in her black linen shorts and slipped her bare feet in a pair of black and white sporty mules.

"A little risqué for your age, isn't it, dear?"

Samantha jumped back from the mirror and yipped. She looked around and didn't see anyone in the bathroom. "Who said that?"

"Here, dear. The mirror," the mirror said.

Her brows furrowed and she edged closer. "A talking mirror?"

The mirror sighed. "And how else are you suppose to know if you look good in the morning?"

She was caught off guard with that question. "Um ... I guess I've always trusted my own judgment."

The mirror started laughing. "Oh that's good. You're own judgment." 

It kept laughing at her even when Samantha gave it a sour look and slammed the door behind her on the way back to her room. 

"Stupid talking mirror."

When she returned, she found a pair of silver stud earrings, grabbed the key her father left her, and the black backpack that she always carried with her in lieu of a purse and headed out to the landing.

Before she made it to the stairs the last door on the landing opened and Arthur stuck his head out. "Psst, Samantha?"

She stopped and Arthur opened the door to the boy's room. "Come here."

Her mouth soured. "You aren't going to play a trick on me, are you?"

The blonde shook his head, and he heard Harry's voice from inside the room. "Would we do that to our father's best friend's daughter?"

Arthur turned. "Probably, but that's not why we want you to come in."

Samantha looked quiet suspicious. "Then why?"

Harry's head came around the corner beside his brother and they both said at the same time, "Business."

She looked warily around the room and wrinkled her nose at the smell of the inner sanctum of 'boys'.

"So, what's this about?"

"Harry? Would you like to do the honors?"

Harry shook his head. "I will leave that pleasure to you, my brother. You know you are the good looking one."

Samantha rolled her eyes. "Waiting here."

"Impatient minx isn't she?" noticed Arthur. 

She threw her hands up. "That's it, I'm gone."

Harry hurried and closed the door. "Sorry, my brother has no class. Straight to business?"

She crossed her arms and looked serious. 

Harry clasped his hands together. "Right then. My brother and I will be going with you to pick up our school supplies as well, and our Uncle Fred and Uncle George own a shop in Diagon Alley."

Arthur nudged Harry aside. "More importantly, a joke shop."

Harry nudged back. "And we are dangerously low on supplies. And as Weasley's ..."

"... Weasley twins at that ..."

"It is our pleasure, nay, our duty to continue in the tradition of our uncles."

Samantha narrowed her eyes. "What's this have to do with me?"

Arthur shrugged. "Being a relative innocent, you can use your feminine wiles on our father in order to get us into the shop."

She crooked an eyebrow. "Feminine wiles? I'm eleven."

They both smiled, and Harry continued. "Exactly. You are at the perfect age to play the starry-eyed daughter type that dad never had. Plus the fact that you're Uncle Harry's daughter ..."

"We can't lose"

Samantha looked like she was considering. "Okay, but only on one condition."

"Anything," said Harry.

"Everything," agreed Arthur.

She smiled. "The condition is that you never play a trick on me, and you also be my bodyguards at Hogwarts."

Arthur laughed. "Are you kidding? Joke on a close personal friend?"

Harry looked hurt. 

"Promise," Samantha insisted.

"We promise," they agreed at the same time.

"And the bodyguard part?" she reminded them.

"We're supposed to do that anyway. Dad would kill us if anything happened to you, " explained Harry.

Arthur nodded. "We'll be in the same classes anyway. You can sit between us. Probably keep Snape off our backs anyway."

She was confused. "What's a snape?"

"Not a what, a who."

Arthur looked discussed. "He's the potions master."

"A right git from what dad and mum say."

She wasn't sure what a 'git' was but it didn't sound too pleasant. "I know what other kids do to the new person and I just want you guys to look out for me, okay?"

They held their hands out. "Right then. Friends 'till the end."

Samantha smiled and shook each of their hands. "Cool."

"We should plan this proper," suggested Arthur. "All we need you to do is when you get us into the shop, distract dad and let one of us slip away to the back."

Harry nodded. "Uncle Fred and Uncle George always give is whatever we want."

His brother agreed. "Says it's good advertisement."

"Breakfast!" yelled their father from downstairs.

Harry opened the door. "You better go on downstairs first. Less suspicious that way."

Samantha checked her bag and dashed out the door, downstairs to see Ron at the base.

"Ready for some shopping?"

Samantha's eyes went wide. "Am I ever!" She stopped and went up on her tiptoes to hug Ron and give him a kiss in the cheek. "Thank you for taking me, Uncle Ron."

His face went red and he smiled back. "Um ... sure. Erm ..."

She smiled brightly and giggled as she took off to the kitchen. "That was even easier than with grandpa," she whispered to herself. "Putty in my hands." 

They were almost through breakfast and a very subdued Harry and Arthur sat prim and proper finishing the last of their kippers. Samantha shied away from the fish and stayed with eggs and toast for the most part.

Ron looked at the boys suspiciously. "You're not going so get it out of your mind."

They both looked crestfallen. "But daaaad," they said in unison.

"Your mother and I would like it immensely if you didn't get kicked out of your first year at Hogwarts, boys."

A loud scream echoed in the stairway and Ron jumped out of his chair. "What the hell?" he ran over opened the door and ducked when a snowy owl swoop through and settled on the back of Samantha's chair. 

"Bloody Hell! Hedwig?"

Samantha raised her hand, stroking the feathers of the of the great bird, and was rewarded with a snuggling caress in return. 

Ron still stood at the door, mouth agape.

"Mr. Dumbledore send her to me last night. Isn't she beautiful?"

"Dumbledore?" asked Harry

"The Minister of Magic?" asked Arthur.

She nodded. "I guess. Oh, by the way he asked if you wouldn't mind dropping me off at the Ministry on Friday morning, Uncle Ron."

Hedwig nipped at some toast Samantha held for her. 

"Um ... sure, I guess," Ron said in response. He seemed to lose the rest of his appetite. "You lot ready to go?"

Harry turned around in his chair. "Is mum not coming with us?"

Ron shook his head. "She had to go up to Hogwarts to prepare the Hospital Wing and order supplies today."

"Your mom works at Hogwarts?"

Harry nodded. "She's the school nurse."

They all finished the last of their Pumpkin juice and Hedwig was settling into the last of the bacon.

"Can I bring Hedwig with me?"

Ron shook his head. "It's best to leave her here, Samantha."

"You remember where we'll be, girl?"

Hedwig hooted reassuringly and went back to her bacon. 

Samantha slung her backpack around her should and pronounced herself prepared to shop.

They arrived out of the community Floo and Ron caught her again as she only stumbled out of the large fireplace this time. The winding street she found herself at was bustling with many strange and wonderful types of people. 

"Welcome, Samantha, to Diagon Alley," said Ron. "First stop is Gringotts."

The sights were overwhelming for her to take it in all at once, and she felt like she would get lost if she was but bumped into only once. "Harry, Arthur," she said nervously.

They stopped and took position on either side of her. "Nothing to be afraid of, Sam," reassured Arthur.

She took hold of both their arms anyway so if they were separated from Uncle Ron, at least they'd have each other. They escorted her down the street to a very large white building that stood at a crossroad. 

Ron pointed across the street. "That's Knockturn Alley. Don't go down there; lots of Dark Magic stuff around."

She nodded quickly and they entered the bank entrance with ugly little creatures standing guard at the door. "What's that?" she asked Harry after they were inside.

"Goblins. They run the bank."

The first teller they came to Ron approached and laid his key on the counter. "Vault 724, please, and Samantha Potter would like vault 687."

She fished her key out from her short's pocket, setting it beside the other.

The goblin teller looked at both keys with scrutiny. "Everything seems to be in order."

He motioned to another little creature like himself and was immediately led to the back of the bank and into a square cart. Arthur sat beside her, in back, and Harry, beside his dad when the cart started forward.

"The vaults are underground?"

Arthur didn't answer and looked somewhat scared. "Hold on!"

They dipped and shot at a sharp angle downward. Samantha grabbed Arthur's arm and screamed. The wind whipped past her and she buried her face in his arm for protection as they whipped through a number of tunnels at incredible speed.When she thought she was going to lose her breakfast they slowed to a stop.

She was shaking from fear and the realization that they all weren't dead when she felt Arthur's hands prying her fingers away. 

"Owww," he moaned. 

She chuckled at the situation and released his arm. "Sorry."

He looked at her. "Talk to me in a minute, woman, when the feeling comes back in my arm." 

Harry laughed. "Price you pay, o' brother of mine, when you protect the fair Samantha."

She smirked shyly. 

"Vault 687," the goblin announced.

He was out of the cart and unlocking the vault door before the rest of them closed. When he open up the door a great billow of green smoke emerged and was blown away by the warm breeze from below. 

"We're underground aren't we? Where's the wind coming from."

"Dragon," the goblin answered matter-of-factly.

She didn't have the chance to question the existence of dragons because of the sight before her. Mountains of Gold Galleons, piles of Silver Sickles and rows of Bronze Knuts lined every wall.

"Blimey," exclaimed Harry. "She's loaded."

Ron nodded. "A lot of it comes from the Death Eaters your father and mother brought to justice. Quite a big bounty on the lot of them ... not to mention, Voldemort. That was a king's ransom in itself."

She broke her hold on the piles of coins and looked at Ron. "My parents were bounty hunters?"

Ron smiled. "No, Samantha. That's a story for another time." He reach into his robes and produced a small bag. "Here you go, fill it up with mostly Gold Galleons and grab a couple of handfuls of Sickles and Knuts as well, for pocket money."

She did as instructed and was amazed at how much she could actually stuff into the black sack. It seemed to be magic, like when Dobby filled her single suitcase with all of her room, yesterday. She weighed one of the coins in her hand before she dropped it in the sack.

"Is this real gold? It's awful light."

Ron nodded. "It's enchanted to be that way. Or else you wouldn't be able to carry as much around with you?"

_That made sense_, she guessed. The trip to the Weasley vault was much shorter and she only squeezed Arthur's arm briefly. Their vault didn't hold nearly as much as hers did, but it was definitely a respectable sum. 

On the return trip Harry volunteered to sit in back and give his brother's arm a rest, much to his chagrin. His arm was quite as numb and his ear was a little worse for wear from Samantha's screaming that it was like a 'freakin' rollercoaster' whatever that was. 

After the ride was over Samantha sat the backpack down and pulled out a cloth/elastic/donut thingy and pulled her hair back into a ponytail so it wouldn't look as messy and slipped the thingy to hold it in place.

"What's that?" Harry asked. 

"It's a scrunchie."

Harry looked at her for a second with her hair pulled away from her face and then turned away appearing to go a little red in the face. Samantha smiled knowingly and knew the red-headed boy liked the way it looked.

She took his arm again and that of his brother, not wanting to make either of them jealous unnecessarily as they strolled back out the way they came. 

Ron clapped his hands once he stepped out into the fresh air. "Where to first?"

Arthur pulled her arm a little to the right. Samantha took the cue. "Can we go down that way, Uncle Ron?"

He shrugged and nodded. "I guess we can start at the end and work our way back." 

They hadn't gone past even one shop before Samantha took her hand away from Arthur's arm and pointed. "Wow, what's in there."

They all looked at the sign above the door which advertised _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes._ Before Ron could protest, Samantha dragged the boys inside. 

Token protests were half-heartedly give by each Harry and Arthur. "Wait, no, stop. Oh well."

"Harry, Arthur!" a red-headed man from behind the counter called. 

They broke away from Samantha and ran to greet their uncle. There were a number of bins containing numerous items whose only purpose was to create havoc and entertain friends.

She saw the look on Ron's face and tried to distract him. "Oh, Uncle Ron, look!"

She picked the first thing that her hand could touch, which happened to be a wand. Waving it in the air, it popped and turned into a rubber mouse.

Ron rushed over and pulled it out of her grip. "Samantha, be careful. You could set the whole shop off."

She smiled playfully. "Oh, Uncle Ron. You're silly."

Samantha was laying it on thick and Ron was suddenly melting at the 'little girl' performance she was giving. 

"Well I suppose something like this isn't too bad," he conceded. 

"What's this I hear, little brother? Is parental life starting to wear off?"

Ron looked up. "Hey, Fred."

Samantha looked at the gangly Weasley. It was so obvious that all of the Weasley's were related. 

"And who is this charming young lady our nephews have escorted into our den of inequity?"

She held out her hand. "Samantha Potter, Sir."

His eyes widened. "So the rumors were true. Another Potter prodigy has returned to Hogwarts?" He paused only for a second. "And I see you've latched on to two future entrepreneurs. Smart girl."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "She's Hermione's child. Of course she smart."

She saw that Ron started looking over his brother's shoulder for the boys. "How much is this?" she asked, holding up the rubber mouse. 

Fred scoffed. "That is old news, Samantha. We give them away with purchases. Come to the counter and I'll show you some of the good stuff."

"Fred," Ron said warningly. 

"You've really become a stick in the mud, Ron. Percy would be proud."

That seemed to do him in and he relented to at least look at what Fred was going to show her. They weaved in and out of bins and Samantha saw Harry giving her a wink. Mission accomplished.

Fred pointed at a box about a foot in length. "This is the _Potions Predicament Deluxe _package. Guaranteed to have Snape steaming in his own juices in less than thirty seconds or your money back. For a limited time only, mind you." He smiled knowingly. "It contains the _Portable Swamp_, with longer lasting marsh gases. It'll fit in the potions classroom for up to an hour before being able to be dispelled."

Samantha laughed. "What good is that?"

Another man who looked exactly like Fred arrived and placed his arm around Samantha. "Oh she of little experience. Once you've met the Greased One you will understand, won't she Ron?'

Ron shrugged and tried his best not to agree with his brothers.

Fred continued with the display. "Also included is the _Cheeky Chalk Powder_. Now this is one of my more thoughtful inventions." He opened the box and showed a good amount of white powder that the professors use to magic up their notes on the blackboards. "Just a pinch in his powder bin and all that will appear on the blackboards are recipes to hair conditioner, shampoos, and other hair care products."

Ron actually laughed at that one. 

"And to complete the package the _Point Profiteer Potion_." He held it up with awe. "Three drops of this in any drink and Snape will be racking on the points for Gryffindor, or whichever house you belong. And he'll be taking away just as many against Slytherin."

George squeezed her shoulder. "We've only got it to last up to twenty hours, so only use it when you're in a pinch at the end of the year for a few extra points."

Ron looked serious. "She's not buying any of this, George."

They shook their head as if they'd been insulted. "Buy? The daughter of our benefactor? The granddaughter of Prongs himself? Surely you jest, little brother."

Fred joined in. "This is but the first of eleven birthday gifts that we have missed out on over the years."

"Fred," Ron warned.

They relented. "Oh alright, Percy ... I mean Ron."

"Calling me Percy will only work once in a while and you've already used that for the day."

The two older brothers sighed and shook their heads. Samantha felt a tugging at her backpack and she let it slip from her shoulder into George's grasp. He winked at her. 

"Time to go boys. Say goodbye to your Uncles," Ron said.

"Bye, Uncle Fred. Bye, Uncle George," the twins said in unison.

"Bye, boys. And good luck with your first year."

They each took Samantha's hand and bent over to kiss it. "Goodbye, Samantha. It was a pleasure meeting you."

When George kissed her hand Ron was already out of earshot corralling his sons to the door. "Come back in few minutes for the bag." He winked at her. 

Samantha smiled back. "Okay."

They had almost made it to Ollivander's when she announced that she had forgotten her bag on the counter and dashed back before Ron could stop her. When she entered the shop again. Fred and George were stuffing a large box inside. 

George grinned. "We've enchanted your bag to hold a bit more than it's used to for the moment. It'll only last for the day so make sure to get these into your trunk before the end of the night."

Fred nodded. "And we've put a few more things in to make up for your birthdays."

Samantha smiled broadly. "Thank you. You really didn't have to do that."

"Pfft," Fred sounded. "A new generation enters Hogwarts and we must do our civic duty to make sure the professors stay on their toes."

George handed her the trick wand she had earlier. "Here. This'll throw that prat brother of ours off the scent if he thinks you came back for this."

She gave them each a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek then ran for the door, slinging her backpack around her shoulder. 

Ron eyed her with suspicion until she showed him the trick wand. He smiled afterward and pulled her to him. "I just don't want you to get into trouble, Samantha. Your parents and I caused enough havoc at Hogwarts that all the professors will be keeping a close eye out on the three of you. Best not to invite them to think you will act the same."

She acted properly chastised. "Yes, Sir."

"Now, how about those wands?"

Harry and Arthur took off down the street with a yell and Samantha was quickly behind, telling them to wait up.

Ollivander's was a bit more strange than Samantha had anticipated. Every wall in the shop was stacked top to bottom with narrow boxes and three spindly chairs sat in the middle where Ron told everyone to wait.

"Good Morning."

Everyone jumped at the sound of a trim old man that appeared behind them. His wide silvery eyes took each of the children in and he examined Harry and Arthur first then settled on Samantha. 

"Another generation of Weasley's and the newest Potter accompanied by Ronald Weasley. Willow. Fourteen inches, rather swishy wasn't it?"

Ron looked on curiously. "Yes, Sir." He paused for a moment. "I've brought the children in for their ..."

Mr. Ollivander waved him away. "Yes, yes. Why else would you be here Mr. Weasley."

He closed on the children. "Well then, which is your wand arm." 

The boys held out their left and Samantha her right, seeing as she was right-handed. Mr. Ollivander took several measurements from each of them with an mumbling to himself with words like 'interesting' and 'unusual'. Then he moved to a stack of boxes and Samantha watched as the tape measure kept doing it's job on Arthur. 

"Mr. Harry Weasley, step over here." He opened a box and produced a wand which he handed to Harry. "Ten and a half inches. Pecan and Unicorn hair. Give it a wave."

Harry did so and gold and red sparks shot out of the end sending sparkles around the room.

"Good show! I do enjoy getting it right on the first try. Miss Potter, you are next."

Samantha stepped up as Mr. Ollivander repackaged Harry's wand and set it on a counter. He stood considering her for a moment and went to retrieve another box. "Nine and a half inches. Birchwood. Phoenix feather. Give it a wave."

She did and nothing happened. 

Ollivander snapped it out of her hand and set it aside. "Can't win them all, eh?"

He scurried off and picked another box. "Ten inches. Ironwood. Dragon Heart string. Excellent for both Charm and Transfiguration work."

She waved it and the same sparks shot out the end as Harry's. Samantha jumped up and down laughing with glee.

"Yes, indeed, very good," Ollivander noted and replaced the wand in it's package and set it near Harry's. "And last, but by all means not least, Mr. Arthur Weasley."

Samantha smile encouragingly at Arthur when she took her seat. Again, Mr. Ollivander picked right the first time. His was eleven and a half inches. Oak. With a Dragon Heart string as well.

She pulled out seven gold Galleons to pay for her wand and quickly stuffed it in her backpack and they were off for more shopping. They stopped by _Eeylops Owl Emporium _so Samantha could purchase some owl treats for Hedwig while Harry and Arthur begged their dad for an owl of their own. In the end he relented and picked out a brown screech owl and cage.

Samantha purchased several rolls of parchment, a couple of handfuls of quills and a few bottles of different colored ink by the time she walked out of the stationary shop when she saw Harry and Arthur staring at something through a store window. Ron escorted her down to the next shop.

"Found it did you?" he said with some mirth.

"What's that?" asked Samantha.

The boys separated and sitting in the window on display was the latest sport broom. She looked at the name plate below and read:

__

Firebolt Mark IV

"Cor, what I wouldn't give for one of those," Arthur said with a great amount of envy. Harry nodded, almost drooling at the thought.

She backed up. "Uncle Ron," she motioned for him to come closer. "Is that the best broom there is?"

He nodded. "Just came out last week. She's a beaut, eh?"

She shrugged her shoulders and nodded. "Remember what was in my father's letter?"

He stood crouched over and his eyes widened. "I don't think ... I mean."

She smiled and handed him the largest of her packages. "I'll be right back."

The boys saw her go in and she overheard them. "Where's she going dad?"

It only took a moment for the clerk to finish with an older boy and he leaned over the counter and smiled. And what can I do for you, little missy? A Quidditch banner perhaps."

She smiled sweetly. "I'd like a book on the rules and strategies of Quidditch, please." 

He escorted her to the only bookshelf in the store and picked out two books for her: _The Official and Unofficial Quidditch Handbook_, which stunned her, being that it was at least two inches thick, and _Winning Strategies of the World Cup 1850 to Present_.

"Will there be anything else, Miss?"

"Yes, please. One of the brooms in the window," she said so innocently. 

The clerk stuttered in his step and laughed playfully. "That's quite an expensive broom, Miss. Maybe you'd like to ask your daddy to pick you out a nice Cleansweep. They're good starter booms."

Samantha's face fell and something flashed behind her emerald green eyes. "My daddy's dead. He told me to get the best broom there was and I want it."

The clerk covered his mouth and knelt to eye level with here. "I'm sorry, poppet. That was thoughtless of me." He thought for a second. "What your name?"

"Samantha Potter."

The clerk abruptly stood up, plainly surprised. "Potter? As in Harry Potter?"

She nodded. "He's my daddy."

He looked down at her and up and around the store spotting a familiar gentleman looking in the window. "Crikey, it's Ron Weasley."

Samantha noticed he almost dropped the books he was carrying. He looked down at Harry and Arthur standing beside, still staring at the _Firebolt._

"He was my father's best friend. He's helping me by my supplies for Hogwarts."

No other word described the clerk other than gobsmacked. 

"He's ... your ..." all of the sudden he was back down at eye level with Samantha. "Um ... listen. I'll cut you a great deal on the Firebolt if ... "

"What?"

"Do you think you can get him to autograph a few of my brooms?" he said pleadingly.

She looked back at Ron. "Uncle Ron's famous?"

"Famous?" the clerk almost laughed. "He was Keeper for the Chudley Cannons for five years and nobody ever scored a goal on him ... not one. Never happened in all of Quidditch. Then he quit." 

"His signature on a broom alone would be worth ... "

Samantha got an idea in her head. "How much is the broom?"

She almost choked when he told her. After she could breathe properly she checked the money bag and estimated how much was left. It would almost break her.

"I'll take three."

He looked back down after staring at Ron for so long, with a smile on his face. "What?" 

"Three Firebolts please at half price and I'll get Uncle Ron to sign five brooms for you."

The clerk groaned and looked like he was starting to sweat. "I can't go that low. Tell you what how about the five autographs and ninety percent of cost. That's a great deal."

Samantha laughed. "I'm young not stupid. Five and sixty percent."

He looked at her. "Are you sure you're eleven? Seventy-five percent of cost is as low as I'm willing to go."

Samantha looked sad. "Sorry for bothering you. I'll just take the books and go. How much?"

He looked like he was going to cry. "Fine, sixty percent and ten autographs."

"Deal!" she held out her hand. 

He gripped her small hand. "Are you sure you can get him to sign. He doesn't like to give out autographs."

She scoffed. "Please, I'm an eleven year old girl. I can get men to do anything for me."

He did a double take and realized he'd been had, and his face soured up. "I'll go package up the brooms. Put the gold behind the counter."

Samantha smiled sweetly and started stacking gold coins where he mentioned, sighed visibly when she finished, and ran out to tell her Uncle Ron the good news. The boys were extremely suspicious when they couldn't overhear the conversation.

"You did what?" Ron demanded. 

Samantha stepped back at his stern voice. "But ... it's just your name on a broom."

She couldn't understand why he seemed so mad.

"Samantha, you can't go around making deals that concern other people. It's not right."

Her eyes were burning and her face went flushed. "I'm, sorry. I didn't mean ... I'll go tell him no then." 

She covered her face with her hands and ran back inside. Harry tried to stop her to find out what was wrong and she brushed passed him. 

"Samantha," Ron tried to call her back.

The clerk was waiting for her when she reentered the shop. The three brooms were sitting on the counter and he was counting the coins she had left. 

He saw her face and his own fell in response. "He won't do it?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'll take the one broom, please, and the books."

He shook his head grimly and looked behind her. "Hold out your bag, poppet." He poured the stacks of gold coin back in her bag and kept enough behind to give her a decent discount off the one broom.

"The books are free for you, Miss Potter. In memory of your father."

She sniffed and nodded. "Thank you."

"Mr. Weasley, Sir."

Samantha jumped and turned around. "I'm buying my own broom with my own money!"

He knelt and looked at her sadly. "Samantha, honey. I'm sorry."

She wiped away her wet eyes. "Nothing to be sorry about. You're right, I had no call to agree to something in your name. But you can't stop me from buying my own broom."

His lips thinned and his brow closed in as he had eaten something bitter. "There are reasons I do the things I do," he whispered.

"And I'm too young to understand. I know. I've heard this speech before from my grandfather." She wouldn't look at him. "Can we go now. I don't want to be here anymore."

He sighed. "Where's your quill? What do you want me to sign?" he asked the clerk.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"It looks like I'm signing some brooms," Ron responded. 

"No."

"Pardon," he said.

"I said, no." She sniffed once more. "I'll get Mr. Dumbledore to bring me by this Friday and I'll buy the other brooms then. I don't have enough money right now."

"Dumbledore ... the Minister?" the clerk sputtered.

"Samantha, don't do this, please," he pleaded. 

She hefted her packaged broom and stuffed her books in the backpack. Apparently there was a limit as to how much would fit as she couldn't get the zipper closed all the way and gave up in frustration, slinging the bag to her shoulder.

"My daddy would have done it without feeling blackballed."

"Blackmailed," he corrected.

"Whatever. He would had done it because he wanted to spoil me. It said so in his letter."

"Too late for that," muttered the clerk

Ron and Samantha shot him a dirty look and then she continued. "He said you were supposed to do it instead. It's not like I was asking for money. Just a few stupid scratches on some stupid brooms. But I was wrong to say you'd do it. I shouldn't have done it without asking permission. So now I'll do it the way I should've in the first place."

He sat through it all and took it. "Okay, you had your say, now I'll have mine." He stopped and looked at the clerk who was watching both of them. "Would you mind pissing off, please," he said politely. 

The clerk looked frightened at first and then grabbed his feather-duster and headed to the front of the store.

"I have my reasons for not signing everything in sight, Samantha. And I'm not telling you because you won't understand. I'm not telling you, because it's none of your business. It's very personal to me why I don't do things like this."

He shifted to his other foot. "As for spoiling you, I think letting you keep all those packages that my brothers gave you is spoiling enough for one day."

Her eyes widened.

"You're right. Your dad would have bent over backward to give you anything you want. He was that kind of guy and I can see his generosity has been passed on to you by wanting to give Harry and Arthur new brooms, much less, Firebolts."

She looked down at the floor.

"I loved your parents, Samantha. More than you'll ever know. They were great people, and not because they were famous, but because they were great friends. Be a great friend to my sons and they'll love you just the same."

She nodded in response. "Yes, Sir."

Robes, books, potion supplies, scales, telescope, and sundry other school supplies later, they approached the community fireplace at the end of Diagon Alley with their arms full of packages. Only Samantha seemed to be less weighed down as most of her supplies were in a temporarily enchanted backpack.

They returned to Grimmauld Place and Samantha didn't waste any time running upstairs, unloading, and unwrapping all of her packages. She set the presents from Fred and Arthur to the side of the bed facing away from the door just in case she had any unexpected adult visitors and she was glad, because as she stacked the last one a soft knock came at the door.

"Come in," she called.

It was only Harry and Arthur. "What happened?"

She shook her head. "Nothing."

Arthur shrugged. "If you don't want to tell us just say so."

She sighed. "I don't want to tell you."

Harry laughed at his brother. "So what kind of Broom did you get?"

She picked it up and tossed it to him. He looked at the package with interest. "Can I?"

Samantha nodded.

Harry ripped into the brown paper and his jaw dropped at the name on the handle. "Arthur, she's got a bloody Firebolt!"

"Gonna give us a turn on it?" asked Harry.

She smiled and nodded. "We're supposed to go to your grandparents house in a little while. You can show me how to ride."

They were both grinning ear to ear.

"What did the uncles give you?" Harry asked.

"We're loaded until the Christmas holidays," Arthur said.

Samantha leaned over the side of the bed and retrieved most of the packages that would fit on top of the bed.

"Bilmey, Arthur, they gave her half the store."

Samantha blushed. "They said it was for past birthdays, too."

Arthur looked at her with a doubtful face. "Sam, some of these items cost fifty Galleons or more." He picked up one package. "The Deflagration Super Deluxe Master Kit is seventy-five Galleons alone."

Harry looked over the bed and spotted another package. "They gave her the _Potions Predicament Deluxe _as well, brother of mine."

"Twenty Galleons."

Samantha raised her eyebrows. "Do you have every item price memorized."

She received a look of pride in return. "Uncle Fred and Uncle George said we can help them around the shop next summer."

Harry amended the statement. "Only if mum lets us. What are the odds?"

Chapter 3


	3. Changes in Status

Chapter 3

"I'm scared," Samantha whispered to Harry as he was helping her mount the broom. 

"Nothing to it, Sam." He thumbed over his shoulder. "Dad's right there as well as Gran. They won't let you fall."

Arthur jogged up behind them with two additional broom. "All set?"

She nodded quickly and nervously. "You two will be beside me, right?"

Arthur chuckled. "Harry, I don't think she deserves a broom as nice as the Firebolt Mark IV. Never get up in the air at this rate."

"Shut it, Arthur. She's nervous enough," Harry shot back.

Samantha smiled to herself.

Arthur laughed and tossed the spare broom at Harry. "See you up there." He pushed off and streaked into the sky as fast as the broom would take him then stopped suddenly and yelled back. "Harry's got a girlfriend. Harry's got a girlfriend."

"I said shut it, you ponce."

"Harry," warned Ron.

A sour look overcame Harry's face and his ears turned bright red. Looking at Harry being embarrassed made the queasiness go away and she mounted the broom. 

"So I just push off?"

He nodded, not looking at her. 

"It's okay, you know."

"What's that?" He said as he bent down to tie his already tied shoe.

"It's okay if you want me to be your girlfriend."

His hands stopped moving and he slowly moved his head up to meet her eyes. "Um ... Arthur was just kidding," he said with a very uncertain tone.

Samantha smiled softly. "No, he wasn't. Anyway, I wouldn't mind you being my boyfriend, either." She looked up in the air. "But you gotta catch me first."

His brows furrowed. "What."

Her small smile turned into a full-toothed grin. "If you want me to be your girlfriend, you'll have to catch me."

At that she pushed off into the air and Harry stood up holding his broom. 

"But you've got a Mark IV. I've only got a Mark II."

She was gaining a good bit of height. "But, Harry, I don't know how to fly."

And she took off. Harry was on his broom as quick as he was able and bouncing off into the air in fast pursuit. 

Samantha looked behind her and saw Harry gaining on her and she leaned forward on the broom to cut the wind resistance and willed the Firebolt even faster. She was almost out of bounds that was marked off by Ron earlier and she swerved to the right, but Harry had anticipated her move and was now only ten feet behind her. She looked back and giggled then dove for the ground and shot back up again, heading for the house. 

Once more she looked back and Harry was still out of reach. She laughed and looked back. Arthur was goofing around doing flips in the air and didn't see her. Samantha had no choice but to stop her broom as fast as she could. It was a little bit too fast and she tumbled off the end. 

It was only a ten foot fall but enough to break bones. She squealed for only a half second before she was wrapped up in Harry's arms and slowing to the ground. 

"_Accio Firebolt_!" 

Ron and Mrs. Weasley were running toward them when Harry set her on the ground and dismounted his broom. Samantha's heart was racing and her chest heaved with breath. 

"Samantha, Are you okay?" called Ron.   


She nodded and looked over to Harry. "Thanks."

He was already smiling. and slipped into a small laugh. 

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"I caught you."

Samantha nodded. "I know. Thanks for that. But what's funny?"

"I caught you," he repeated slower.

Her eyes widened. "No fair. Arthur got in my way."

He smirked. "You didn't say anything about rules."

"Girls, prerogative."

"Nope, you're my girlfriend."

Ron slowed to a trot and stopped before them. "You're sure you're okay?"

Samantha rolled her eyes and said depressingly, "Yeah, my boyfriend here caught me."

Ron reared back slightly. "Boyfriend?"

Harry looked caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Um ... yeah see there this thing ..."

Samantha grabbed her broom out of Ron's hand. "Oh, give it up, Harry. You're doomed and you know it."

She mounted again and pushed off.

"Slower this time, Samantha. Until you get used to the speed," Ron yelled up.

"Yes, Sir."

She spend a good fifteen minutes in the air flying above Harry watching her Uncle Ron talking to his son and Harry responding with shy and embarrassed looks. Samantha felt so bad for him that she dropped down and landed beside the them.

"So you going to teach me how to fly or what?"

Harry's face was so incredibly red that Samantha thought his head was going to explode. He turned toward his father. "Dad, can we maybe finish this at home tonight?"

Ron nodded and they both took off, getting out of earshot when Samantha started the interrogation.

"What was that all about?"

Harry shook his head in confusion. "I dunno. He was going off about Quaffle's and goals and how I shouldn't rush to score and lose the game when I should be concentrating on the Snitch."

"What are you talking about?"

"Quidditch. It's a game ..."  


She frowned. "I realize what Quidditch is, but I don't know the particulars. I just bought the book, you know."

"And Dad knows that I know all about Quidditch which is why I don't know the reason he's bringing it up all of the sudden."

Samantha made the connection. "You think he's telling you about the birds and the bees?"

"Bees?"

She giggled. "You know ... the _Talk_."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "What talk? You mean about making Quidditch captain?"

She reared back and almost fell off her broom laughing. "You're cute when you don't know what's going on."

Obviously Harry wasn't used to receiving compliments of this nature and started to turn red again. "Tell me!"

"The _Talk_, Harry. About sex," she encouraged. "Like how you shouldn't rush me into having sex and wait until you're older and more responsible."  


Harry's mouth opened with fright at a girl talking to him about something so personal.

"I suppose the Quaffle is used to score a goal of some sort which is representative of a penis entering a vagina. And the Snitch would be love or responsibility or something. My grandmother gave me the same talk when I had my first monthly visitor. I think I was eight, almost nine years old."

Now Harry was confused again. "Hold it ... we're supposed to do sex, or not do sex."

Samantha shook her head. "Really Harry, I would expect you would know all of this by now. One doesn't _do_ sex; one _has _sex, or one does _it_."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Sorry, I'm obviously not as experienced as you."

The gauntlet had been thrown down and Samantha metaphorically picked it up and slapped him across the face.

"It's going to be that way, is it?" she sneered at him. "I don't know if I want someone that rude to be my boyfriend. Perhaps Arthur would like some female company."

He chuckled. "Arthur's not anymore smarter than I am."

She smiled dreamily. "Yes, but he does have that lovely blonde hair."

Harry face soured. "You're teasing me."

Samantha finally relaxed. "Yes, Harry. I'm teasing you. I know so much because I read, not because I'm a slut."

"What's a slut?"

"Maybe you have a different name for it. It's a girl that goes for every boy in sight, dresses cheaply, and everyone talks nasty things about her."

He nodded. "A tart."

She nodded. "That's it. I think I heard my Grandfather use that word once. Anyway, I'm not a tart."

"I know you're not."

She felt some modicum of satisfaction in hearing him say that. "Good, then you can still be my boyfriend."

At their slow and leisurely pace they reached the marked off zone and turned back toward the house. 

"So ... um, what are we supposed to do now?" asked Harry.

She smiled back to him. "We hold hands, and kiss every once in a while, and all the boys you know will be jealous, and all the girls will jealous that we are together."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why will they be jealous?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes again. "Because I am beautiful and you are handsome, and they will wish that they could be our boyfriends and girlfriends."

"Oh," he replied, confused now more than ever. "I'm handsome?"

"_Duh_."

"And you're beautiful?"

Her eyes widened at the implication. "Yes, and you have to tell me that everyday. It's what my Grandfather tells my Grandmother every morning before they leave for work."

He shrugged. "Kinda gushy if you ask me."

"Did you see Arthur anywhere?"

He frowned. "Okay, you're beautiful." Then he muttered, "I never thought that having a girlfriend was this much work."

She stopped in midair and motioned him over. "And the most important part, Harry. I can't believe I almost forgot."

"What," he asked as he neared her hoping to be privy to some really good information. 

"You can't forget dates."

"Dates?"

"Yes, you know, like holidays, birthdays, anniversaries. Very important."

Harry nodded. "Right, I knew that one. Mum's birthday was last week. Dad forgot and didn't get her anything. She told him he wasn't getting any ... whatever that was. I suppose it was cake. She didn't let him have any cake after dinner that night."

Samantha leaned over and whispered, "It was sex, Harry."

"Sex?"

"Uh-huh."

"Mum and Dad?"

"Uh-huh."

"Oh, GROSS!"

Samantha laughed. "And how do you think you and Arthur came into being?"

He straightened up threw his shoulders back in pride as he finally had an answer to give. "The St. Mungo's Delivery Owl, of course."

She shook her head. "You poor, deluded boy."

They ate dinner, with Ron occasionally looking wistfully at Samantha and Harry. Arthur cracked a number of jokes afterward about their new relationship status and Mrs. Weasley smiled throughout.

The next morning found Samantha in her own bed at Grimmauld Place with a snowy owl standing guard over her sleep. "Morning, Hedwig," she said as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

"I'm supposed to go see Mr. Dumbledore today. What are you doing?"

Hedwig hooted dolefully and she stroked her feathers. "I promise we'll do something together after I get back, okay."

This received a better response and a playful nip at her fingers. She stood and stretched as she made her way to the window so Hedwig could go hunt in the early morning hours. Samantha already knew that Mr. Dumbledore was supposed to be really old and was probably set in his ways, as most adults were, so she chose a more conservative outfit that didn't show as much skin as her lounging wear.

After bathing and applying liberal amounts of goop to her difficult hair she chose a knee-length dark violet skirt with matching socks and mary-janes. A white button down with a black string tie hanging from the neck gave her a very traditional look. She pulled a set of matching violet robes and slung them around her shoulders.

"I feel like Madeline. All I need is the stupid hat and I have an outfit."

At breakfast Ron warned her to be on her best behavior at the Ministry and to follow Dumbledore's every instruction. She nodded at most of what he was saying and tuned the rest out. The only thing she could think about was that today she would find out all about her father and mother. This made her very excited.

"Are you ready?"

She looked up from her almost untouched breakfast and nodded. "Yes, Sir."

He smiled at her. "Don't worry, you'll do fine. Dumbledore's not like other people."

"Got your wand?" he asked as he lead her to the fireplace and she nodded. 

"Good. The security desk is just to the right as you come out of the Floo. Just tell the man sitting there your name and he'll ..."  


"You're not coming?"

"No, sweetie. Dumbledore wrote and said to send you alone. But don't worry. You'll be perfectly safe at the Ministry of Magic. Especially with Dumbledore running things."

She nodded for the hundredth time that morning then stepped into the fireplace to throw down her Floo Powder. "The Ministry of Magic!"

When she stumbled out of one of many Ministry fireplaces that lined the wall along the side of a beautiful atrium, the first thing that caught her eye was a tall fountain. There was noticeably a wizard and a witch in the center with a what Samantha recognized as a house-elf standing along side looking up. A goblin and a centaur were on the other side, but clearly in sight. 

She'd never seen a centaur except in fantasy pictures and smiled at one day meeting such a beautiful creature. The thing that stood out most was a statue sitting alongside the fountain of a young man looking into the water at the base. 

After checking that she didn't cause a stir among the few people that were going to and fro to the security desk, she closed to see what the man was looking at. His face was turned away when she approached to get a better look. 

"I see you have found the Fountain of Magical Brethren, Samantha," came an old and smooth voice from behind her.

She jumped and spun around to see a tall man who had to be very old, standing behind her. His long silvery beard almost reached his beltline and flowing silver hair fell halfway down his back. She smiled at his chosen color of robes, violet, with swirls of other colors mixed in and a pointy hat atop his head, making him seem more out of a book or Halloween store back home.

"Hello," she simple said. 

"Pardon me for disturbing your inspection of your father's statue." His eyes left hers as he moved around admiring the craftsmanship. "It has been some time since I have visited him. I used to come during my lunch, for over three years after his death. You must have seen pictures by now of he and your mother. Do you think this statue does him justice?"

Samantha didn't know what to say and took a closer look, at last seeing the face of her father in stone. "I don't know, Sir."

He looked down at the floor of the atrium. "No matter. Ultimately I suppose it is not important. It is our memory of him that matters most."

Samantha shifted, uncomfortably. "My father left me a letter, Sir. You are Mr. Dumbledore, right?"

The old man smile and nodded. "Please, if you do not mind or think me too forward, call me Albus. I do grow tired of being titled everyday."

Samantha grinned and Dumbledore smiled back. "Yes, Sir ... Albus. I'm Samantha Potter." She held out her hand with more confidence.

Dumbledore took her small hand in his and bend his head low. "It is a very great honor to finally meet you, Samantha."

She seemed embarrassed at his greeting. "Um ... I'm only a kid."

Dumbledore chuckled low and deep. "Age is not a factor in the magical world as far as I am concerned. The youngest of us has proven to be the most brave, the most cunning, and even the most powerful. It is not age that determines worth, Samantha."

She thought whatever he just said was pretty, but didn't quite make sense. "Um ... okay."

"You mentioned that your father left you a letter."

She nodded. "He said that you would tell me the truth about what happened. He said he was old enough then and now that I'm going to Hogwarts, I'm old enough now."

Dumbledore smiled. "Indeed, your father was always one for the truth, no matter how good or bad the news."

He looked at the floor once more and back to her eyes. "Then I suggest we take a tour of the ninth floor of the Ministry, and there I will begin the tale of your father, mother, and their closest friend. " 

He stood and held his arm out for her to slide her hand onto his forearm. They passed the security desk where the attendant nodded.

"Morning, Minister."

"Good morning, Stephen." Dumbledore chuckled. "You see Samantha, more titles."

Minutes later after they stepped foot off the lift to the ninth floor they walked down the corridor to the plain black door of which Dumbledore opened and waved his charge through. 

"Samantha, what I am about to show you is highly secret and you may not discuss what you see in these rooms with any other person except by my permission. Do I have your word?"

She looked up and down the hall they stepped into. "Yes, Sir."

"Albus, Samantha, Albus."

She smiled. "Yes, Albus. I can keep a secret."

Dumbledore closed the door and she heard him mutter something as the wall with the doors on it started whipping by in front of her at incredible speed then came to a sudden stop. 

"Wow!"

Dumbledore nodded. "It is part of security, making it more difficult for intruders to find their way."

She could see how it would be impossible to choose the right door to enter if they all looked the same. The room they entered was circular, and in front of her, on a stone dais, stood a veiled archway. The black veil was worn and obviously old, moving slightly as if a slight breeze was wafting through the room, but at the time, she felt none. Benches encircled the area as if people would come here to watch something and this is where Dumbledore led her.

"This place is creepy."

Dumbledore looked grim. "Aptly put, Samantha. This room witnessed an event that was the turning point in your parent's lives."

"What is this place?"

Dumbledore sighed deeply. "In times past, before we, as a society of wizards learned to control our baser instincts, there those that developed a way to dispose of the more heinous members of our people."

Samantha froze and looked down at the archway. "This is an execution chamber?"

Sadly Dumbledore nodded. "The Death Chamber as this room has come to be known was for those wizards who practiced unforgivable magic. Magic that caused excruciating torture and even death. They were cast through the archway to meet whatever fate there lays in the afterlife.

"It was here that Harry's godfather, Sirius, lost his life in a duel with an escaped criminal." He paused for a moment. "Harry witnessed this event and for a time it broke something inside of him that I did not know would ever be repaired."

Her eyes never left the veiled archway as a chill ran down her spine causing her to shiver and close her robes tightly. "What were they doing here?"

Dumbledore turned to his side and grimaced. "This is where the tale begins, Samantha. Some thirty odd years ago, with a prophecy ..."

The Minister of Magic recounted the first rise of Voldemort and his quest for eternal life and power, James and Lily's untimely death's and Harry's survival. His subsequent internment with the Dursley's and his escapades at Hogwarts up to the moment he entered the Death Chamber and saw his godfather die.

Samantha was agog with everything her parents and her Uncle Ron had gone through, a good portion of which was at her current age. _Daddy was fighting evil when he was only eleven. Could I do something like that? Would I be that brave?_

"You must come with me, Samantha," Dumbledore said as he stood.

"Where are we going?"

"Another room."

They exited to a different door, back out into the long hall with the moving wall. When Dumbledore closed the door again the walls spun by once more and stopped with another muttered word.

She watched as he withdrew his wand and laid the tip at the door knob. Something happened, but she wasn't sure what. The only thing she knew was that she felt different. Something inside the room seemed to be calling her, not by name, but by a warm and easy force. Desire showed on her face as she stepped through the doorway, passed Dumbledore and entered the room.

Samantha saw out of the corner of her eye, the old man watching her with interest. Inside the circular room were small silver doors stacked one on top of the other from floor to ceiling like small cabinets of hidden goodies for her to look through. She started from one side and made her way slowly around until about halfway through and stopped.

"Fascinating," said Dumbledore. 

He watched her reach her hand up and he stepped forward. "I may be of some assistance, Samantha."

It was like she didn't hear him or didn't bother to respond, but Dumbledore continued, holding his wand high. They both followed the cabinets, with their eyes, until they dropped to a more accessible level. Samantha's hands traveled from door to door until it seemed she had found the ones she was looking for. Her hand grasped one of the handles but she was stopped before she went any further.

"A moment, Samantha."

It seemed that the spell was broken, briefly, but she could still feel the call. "I have to open that door."

"Why, if I may ask?"

"Um ... I don't know."

He looked around. "Do you know what this room is, Samantha?"

She shook her head.

"This room contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than the forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects under study here in the Department of Mysteries."

"What is it?"

Dumbledore blinked several times. "The question is not what, but who lays behind this door, Samantha."

Her emerald eyes that she inherited from her father locked with the Minister in silent resolve. "It's my father, isn't it."

Dumbledore stepped back, saying nothing. Samantha's hand tightened on the handle and she pulled, not knowing what to expect. The door swung open on easy hinges and a table started to slide out. It was as she suspected. Her father lay upon the table. He looked young and vibrant, in the best of health. 

"What ... why ..."

Dumbledore was suddenly behind her, gripping her shoulders in a comforting hold. "The people who reside in this room are all victims of the Killing Curse."

"He looks ..."

"Alive, yes."

"How?"

"The most clever minds of our time and others do not know. Our only conclusion is that the Killing Curse, once performed on a normal Muggle or Wizard, destroys the life force leaving behind the body ... all except for three people."

"Three?" she asked.

"Yes, your father and your paternal grandparents." His fingers squeezed for another moment. "We do not know why their bodies do not deteriorate, but I surmise it has something to do with the gift Lily bestowed upon your father. It is the only variance between the Potters and the rest of the victims."

She turned at looked up at Dumbledore. "The ancient charm you spoke of that gave Daddy the power to fight Voldemort at first."

"Yes."

She considered the question of her grandmother's charm of sacrifice and love for her only son, and turned back to her father. "May I?"

Dumbledore considered briefly and ran his wand over the inert body of Harry Potter. A red shimmering appeared and disappeared as rapidly. 

"It is a protection charm that I have removed to hold his body from harm. I have lifted it and I will give you a moment alone. When you are ready, I will be just outside the door."

Samantha nodded and waited for him to exit. She looked at the face of her father and the lightening bolt scar that adorned his forehead. Her eyes traveled down his face, trying to take in every feature. 

"Hi, Daddy. I know you're busy sleeping right now, but if you don't mind I'd like to talk to you."

She held her hand out above his chest and lightly brushed the white shirt he was wearing. 

"Grandma and Grandpa Granger have taken really good care of me. We've been in the United States since ... well, since Mommy died. And now I'm back here, fixin' to go to school at Hogwarts, just like you.  


"I'm staying with Uncle Ron for now until school starts, and ... "

She stopped and considered her words. "I don't know what to say to you," she sobbed.

Samantha sniffed before she realized that tears were trailing down her cheeks. 

"I've dreamt of this moment forever and exactly what I'd say to you if ... if you and Mommy weren't dead and came for me. Like it was all some really bad joke and you'd take me back home and we'd live happily ever after.

"But I guess that's all it is, isn't it ... just a dream?"

Her hand found it's way up to his face and hovered just above his skin, feeling the heat of his body. 

"Daddy, would you wake up please and tell me it's just been a bad dream? Please?"

Her face was burning with anguished heat. "WAKE UP!" she screamed.

"DADDY! WAKE UP!"

"Samantha," Dumbledore called from the doorway.

She kept her eyes on her father's face. "Why doesn't he wake up? He's just asleep, right?"

She felt the comforting arms of the old man wrap her up in his embrace. "I'm sorry, Samantha. I wish more than anyone, but you, that it were true, however it is only his body that lays here. Come now, we should go."

"No!" she pulled away and flung herself on top of her father's body. "Daddy!"

Her face brushed his and skin lay against skin when it happened. A low rasping sound deep within Harry Potter's chest made itself known as his eyes suddenly snapped open and he violently inhaled air into his lungs. 

Samantha jumped back and almost screamed, covering her mouth in a attempt hold herself together. 

Dumbledore moved in quickly. "Harry? Harry can you hear me?"

The only other sound in the room was the labored breathing of her father who was somehow alive.

"Harry, say something," insisted Dumbledore. 

His eyes were wide and searching, squinting before Dumbledore remembered his glasses. 

"Harry, it's Albus Dumbledore. Your glasses were destroyed. Just relax." He turned his head. "Samantha the red button on the wall by the door. Press it now."

She dashed to the door and slammed her palm on the button but nothing happened. "It's broken."

"The alarm is silent. Do not worry. Harry stay calm. Help is on the way." He looked back up at the frightened girl by the door. "Your assistance, please."

Her eyes left her father and went back up to Dumbledore. 

"Hold his hand, Samantha. I'm not sure what happened, however physical contact with you seems to have had a positive effect."

Her eyes darted back and forth and she ran up along side and took Harry's hand in her own, squeezing tightly. His labored breathing eased and he turned his head squinting harder than ever at her.

"Her ... Hermione?"

The last of his energy left him and his head laid back on the table.

She panicked. "Daddy, no!"

Dumbledore calmed her. "He's asleep, Samantha? See the rise and fall of his chest. He's only asleep."

The door to the room slammed open and was filled with dangerous looking men. Dumbledore turned. "Flannigan, Alert St. Mungo's we will be sending over a critical patient. Smithers, open these two compartments and keep a close watch on it's occupants, alert me if there is any change."

"Bloody hell, it's Potter! He's alive?" one of the other men said. 

"And I would not like to be the one to leak that out of this room, Mr. Wilkins." 

All of the men, as well as Samantha, saw the dark look in Dumbledore's eyes. 

"'Course not, Minister." 


	4. Memories of You

Chapter 4

"Perhaps you would like something to eat, Samantha?"

She had not left her father's side for almost three hours and performed no function other than to hold his hand and watch him for any sign of wakefulness. 

"No, thank you."

The men in the grey robes had come to perform spells on her father, looking quite pleased with the results, and saying he was most probably sleeping off whatever trauma had put him in such a state in the first place. That had been two hours ago and she sat waiting ever since.

Dumbledore had come and gone several times, and this time he returned holding a pair of glasses which he set on the bedside table.

"Would you eat if I had something brought up to you?"

She nodded. "I don't want to leave, in case ..."

The old man smiled at her. "I understand." 

He didn't leave this time. Instead he opened the door and whispered to someone in the hall then closed the door back.

"Is someone else here?"

He nodded once. "I have stationed four wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad to look over yours and your father's safety and privacy during times that I am away."

She felt a twinge at her hand. "Sir, I think he's ..."

Dumbledore was on his feet and opening the door. "Inform the healers that their patient is wakening."

He returned in due course. "Harry ... Harry, can you hear me?"

Her father's eyes opened normally and he didn't gasp as he did earlier. He looked around briefly and not even with a second thought reached over and picked up his glasses off of the nightstand. In doing so he had released Samantha's hand to straighten them on his face.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Harry. How do you feel?"

Harry took himself in and grinned slightly. "A little stiff, but otherwise fine, I guess."

The door opened and a man in grey robes followed by a man and a woman in white entered the room.

"Well, well, it seems as if Lazarus has risen again." 

The healer withdrew his wand and a small light appeared at the tip which he held to her father's eyes then to his chest. for a few moments. 

"Would you breath deep for me, please."

Harry did so and was asked to repeat the action. 

"Tell me how you feel, Mr. Potter," the healer ordered.

"Um ... like I just said. I feel kind of stiff, but normal I guess. Like I've had a long game of Quidditch."

The healer nodded. "Amazing." He seemed to consider. "If you don't mind, Mr. Potter, I'd like to keep you here for the night, at least and perform a few tests. It isn't everyday a situation like yours ..."

"No, Philias. Harry will be returning home as soon as you declare him fit. Security is not as I would like," Dumbledore declared.

Samantha smiled to herself, and almost jumped when she saw her father looking at her with curiosity. 

"Hello," said Harry. 

A silly grin crept across her face. "Hi."

"What's your name?"

"Samantha."

He smiled and held his hand out to her. "Hi, Samantha, my name is Harry."

She giggled. "I know."

He shrugged. "I suppose you do, considering you're sitting right here and all." He paused for a moment. "Samantha's a beautiful name. My wife and I are having a baby soon; her name is going to be ..."

Harry eyes locked on hers, and then he searched her face and hair. A frown appeared on his own face. 

"What's your last name, Samantha?"

"A moment, Harry, " interrupted Dumbledore.

They both turned to see the old man shoo off the healer and his assistants. Then he turned back and set his face. "What is the last thing you remember?"

Harry looked back at Samantha and closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head in dismissive disbelief. "Godric's Hollow, where it all started. I had just left Hermione," He paused. "Where is she anyway?"

"Please, Harry, indulge me for a few more minutes and I will tell you everything you wish to know."

"I don't remember much after I arrived. It's kind of hazy." He shut his eyes trying to remember. "I get flashes of things. The new house that was built there still didn't have anyone living in it."

"That's correct."

"I remember the stairs and a light on in one of the rooms."

He paused for a moment and then shook his head. "I can't think of anything else."

Dumbledore nodded his head. "It is not unusual for someone who has lost consciousness to forget the last few moments before the actual event. Your brain had not enough time to process the moment before it was shut down."

"Professor? Where's Hermione?" he asked.  


"Samantha," Dumbledore said. "Would you mind waiting in the hall for a few minutes, please."

She bit on her lower lip, stood and did ask Dumbledore asked. When she went out into the hall she noticed a small bench across the way where she sat and looked around. She pulled her backpack off and withdrew _A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration_ to take her mind off of exactly who was inside the room opposite. Halfway through the first chapter she encountered the first spell.

She withdrew her wand and practiced the movements, whispering to herself the proper pronunciation of the incantation. Something almost out of the field of vision caught her eye and she looked up.

Dumbledore was standing at the doorway, smiling at her. "He is ready for you now, Samantha."

Her breath caught in her throat and she scrambled to replace the book in her backpack and her wand in the narrow pocket of her robes. After she zipped up the pack she threw it over her shoulder and dashed across the hall. Dumbledore had knelt down and met her, eye to eye. 

"I have told him everything. He has asked me to send for some clothes and his wand. When they arrive I will knock once on the door."

She shook her head in understanding. "Yes, Sir."

Samantha looked around the corner at her father who was waiting patently for her. His eyes were red and his face was somewhat splotchy. 

"Hey," he said softly. 

"Hey," she returned. 

Samantha stepped into the room and Dumbledore closed the door noiselessly behind her.

"Dumbledore tells me that you're Samantha ... my Samantha."

She nodded, looking nervous. "Yes, Sir."

He smiled. "Come closer so I can look at you properly."

She neared the bed and watched as Harry searched her face once more. 

"You look like your mother ... except for the eyes. I think that's what threw me at first. I recognized the eyes, but couldn't place them because you weren't wearing glasses."

She looked down and back up. "I don't need glasses."

He laugh abruptly. "Good, they're a pain in the butt to keep up with."

Samantha smiled at his little joke. 

"I'm sorry for not being there for you."

She turned her head and looked at the window trying her best not to cry.

"But I'm here now," he added.

Her mouth broadened into a smile, her eyes burned and her throat constricted. 

"Samantha, do you think it's too late to be a family?"

She dropped her bag and jumped on her father's bed, throwing her arms around him and buried her face in in his neck, sobbing out loud. His arms wrapped around her, squeezing until she thought she would die from happiness, and that's just the way she wanted it. 

They laid there for the longest time, not moving for fear it would all revert back to the way it was only hours before, until Harry was the brave one and pulled back. 

"I suppose I have a lot to catch up on. Are you going to teach me?"

She nodded and wiped away at her cheeks. "Yes, Sir."

He smiled back at her. "You're very polite, but you don't have to call me sir if you don't want to."

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Okay, Daddy."

That one word produced a change in Harry's expression, as if someone had stuck their hand inside his chest and caressed his heart. "I think I'm going to be spoiling you a whole lot. I hope you're up to it."

Samantha dove forward again and hugged him tight. "Oh, Daddy, I've got everything I ever wanted right here."

There was a sharp knock and Samantha jumped up. "That's Mr. Dumbledore. Hold on."

She leaped to the door and flung it open. Dumbledore stood there holding a package which Samantha grabbed and ran back to her father. 

"I'll be right outside when you're ready, Daddy, then we can go surprise Uncle Ron." She started for the door. "Harry and Arthur are going to have a cow when they find out who you are!"

She slammed the door behind her. "Mr. Dumbledore, Mr. Dumbledore! My daddy's coming home!"

Samantha hugged the very happy Albus Dumbledore. "So I hear, Samantha." When she pulled back he knelt again in front of her. "Will you do me a large favor?"

She nodded. 

"I want you to keep and eye on your father for me. His care is my primary concern for the moment and if you ever need anything I want you to send Hedwig to me. Even if it is only to talk."

"Yes, Sir."

He sighed. "Again with the titles, Samantha?" he said with much mirth.

She giggled. "Yes, Albus."

"That's much better. Now let us see how your father is progressing, shall we?"

She nodded. 

They knocked lightly and listened for permission to enter. Harry had just finished buttoning up his shirt. "Come in."

As he sat to pull on his socks and shoes Dumbledore gave a few last minute instructions.

"Remember, Harry, there will be quite an explosion of news once your resurrection becomes known. When I return to the Ministry I will see to it your house is brought up to living standards again. I am sure Dobby will be quite ecstatic to be serving you once more and will make everything to your liking.

"I will make sure he informs you once arrangements have been made. Then there is the issue of your apparent agelessness. This will, no doubt, become an issue at some point."

Harry chuckled. "Professor, I've dealt with the _Daily Prophet _before, don't worry."

"I do not speak of the _Daily Prophet_, Harry."

"Ron."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Perhaps your appearance will bring him out of his self-imposed early retirement, or not, I do not know."

Harry nodded. "I'll see what I can do." Then he turned to Samantha. "Now, who is this Harry and Arthur you mentioned?"

Samantha smiled weakly. "Ron's twin sons, except Arthur has blonde hair, and Harry's my boyfriend."

He leaned back almost laughing. "A blonde Weasley? That must have caused quite a ... hold on. You said boyfriend?"

Samantha nodded.

"But you're only eleven."

She rolled her eyes and hugged her father. "Oh, Daddy."

Harry hugged her back. "I see that you're going to put the whole spoiling thing to the test, aren't you?"

Dumbledore laughed softly. "Samantha, you are in charge. You make sure your father eats properly and sleeps properly. Nothing too strenuous for a while until we are sure he is back to full health."

She smiled against her father. "Yes, Sir."

After the official okay by the healer, Dumbledore escorted them outside where there was a car waiting. Harry and Samantha stepped in and took their seats and Dumbledore leaned over at the door.

"Good luck, Harry. I will see you on Monday at the Ministry, yes?"

"See you then, Professor."

"Daddy, don't call him Professor. He doesn't like that. You're supposed to call him Albus."

"Quite right, Samantha," Dumbledore laughed. "Quite right."

He closed the door and they were off with a resounding crack. 

"Where are we going?"

Samantha grasped his hand. "Uncle Ron's."

Harry smiled. "I realize this, but where is he living now. I mean it's been eleven years."

"Number twelve Grimmauld Place. At least that's what I always say in the Floo. Does that transfer to actual addresses also?"

Harry nodded, frowning slightly.

"What's wrong, Daddy?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. It's ... well I haven't been there since Sirius died."

"He was your godfather, right?"

Harry nodded. 

Another loud crack and the car turned the corner into the square and stopped. Samantha was the first out and started scanning the numbers on the front of the houses.

"I don't see number twelve."

Harry was beside her with his hand around her shoulder. "Think of the address.."

He looked around the square at the dilapidated houses to make sure they weren't being watched. 

"Oh," Samantha gasped. "Well, that's ugly, now isn't it."

"Hasn't changed much."

"The inside is very nice, I wouldn't have guessed it would look like this on the outside."

Paint was peeling and windows appeared busted. Overall it looked like a haunted house. 

"Come on before we are seen," encouraged Harry. 

They made it to the top of the steps and Harry tapped the door with his wand. The sound of locks opening and chains rattling was a good sign that the door still accepted him as a occupant. Plus the fact that it actually opened was an additional good sign. 

"Let me go in first and tell Uncle Ron, otherwise he might have a heart attack."

Harry smiled at his daughter and held the door open for her. "Go ahead."

She waited until the door was closed. "UNCLE RON, I'M HOME!"

The sound of a door opening downstairs alerted Samantha that they were in the kitchen. "They're probably finishing lunch. I'll go tell them."

Harry nodded and looked around the entryway mumbling to himself. "Much better."

She dashed downstairs and met Ron halfway. "Oh," she said excitedly. "Uncle Ron, Is everyone in the kitchen?"

He looked at her strangely. "Yeah, is everything okay? I thought you were supposed to be gone all day."

She smiled and took his arm, turning him around and leading him back downstairs. "Something came up. Come on and I'll tell everyone at once."

He held the door open for her and saw the twins and Luna sitting at the table.  


"Hello, Samantha," Luna sang.  


"Afternoon, Aunt Luna

Harry and Arthur waved greetings while Harry's was accompanied with a little more enthusiasm than his brother's. 

"What happened," asked Ron.

"Something happened? Luna asked dreamily.

"Well, I went to the Ministry, " Samantha began. "I met Mr. Dumbledore and he told me about everything."

"Everything?" interrupted Ron. 

She nodded. "He took me down to the ninth floor and showed me."

"The Department of Mysteries," said Ron with a pained expression.

"Who's telling this story, anyway?"

His eyebrows lifted and he put his hands in his pockets. "You are."

Samantha grinned. "I saw the archway and he took me to another room."

"Not the brain room."

"Brain room, eeeww, Uncle Ron. They have a brain room?"

He shook his head. "Sorry, go on."

She shook off a shiver at the thought and continued. "Well there's a room where they have ... um .. I'm not supposed to talk about it, but anyway, I met someone."

Her boyfriend almost stood up. "Someone, who?"

She waved him off. "Not a boy, sit down." She turned to Ron. "It's someone you knew when you were younger."

Ron's eyebrows knitted. "Oh, really? Who?"

It's gonna be a kind of shock I just wanted you to be ready when you saw him.

"He's here? In the house?"

She nodded. "I told him to wait."

At that Luna dropped her glass of pumpkin juice and gasped. 

"Hello, Ron."

The red headed man spun around and saw what had shocked his wife. His face turned white and his eyes almost popped their sockets when he fell backward, losing his balance, to the floor.

"BLOODY HELL!" Ron scrambled back and then stopped. "Harry?"

The elder Harry chuckled. "Mind not cussing in front of my daughter, mate. Impressionable age and all."

Ron couldn't keep his eyes off of his lost friend. "How ..."

Harry reached a hand out to help him up and Ron took it. "Even after he had a second chance, Voldemort still couldn't get it right. Been in a kind of suspended animation for the last eleven years. At least that's what Dumbledore said." He turned to his daughter. "Took Samantha here touching me to bring me out of it."

"But you look ... just like I remember."

Luna came up from behind her husband. "That's what suspended animation means, Ronald. For all intents and purposes Harry was dead. His body's normal functions were reduced so low that not even a trained healer would be able to tell otherwise. He would never age, or age at such a rate that it would take a thousand years to notice any change."

Silence ruled after that for at least a minute. "Harry, is it really you?" asked Ron.

Harry nodded and grinned, raising his hand. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Samantha watched as Ron's hands clinched and unclenched. "It's you," he sobbed and grabbed for his friend, pulling him into his embrace. "It's you."

For the next few hours they sat around the table drinking butterbeer and eating a never ending supply of food that Luna had whipped up on the spur of the moment. Samantha had taken a place along side her boyfriend and they were holding hands under the table while watching their father's retell adventures of years past for their amusement. 

"So I hear my namesake has an eye on my little girl."

Samantha felt her boyfriend's hand squeeze hers. "Daddy," she scolded him. 

Harry turned to his friend. "You did give him the Quidditch talk like you father gave you, right?"

Ron nodded, smiling evilly. 

Harry laughed, "Great now he'll be even more confused."  


His namesake pointed. "See, see, it's not just me."

Samantha giggled uncontrollably. 

"Quidditch talk?" Arthur asked. 

Ron nodded. "And you'll get yours when you get your first girlfriend."

Arthur frowned. "No fair!"

Little Harry turned to his brother. "It's all about holding on to your Quaffle and playing with it." He paused, confused. "Or not playing with it. I forget."

Harry busted out laughing and sloshed half his butterbeer on his robes. "Don't play with it, Harry. Keep it to yourself."

"Then how's he supposed to score a goal?" Arthur asked. "I thought you were supposed to throw your Quaffle around."

Samantha couldn't take anymore. "Does anyone in this house know what a metaphor is?"

Luna raised her hand. 

"Is that one of those grey things with wings that breathe dirt and lay tiny diamond eggs?" asked Little Harry.  


"No dear those are Oriental Metaphiles," answered Luna. "Father found those on his trip to Japan. It was an excellent article for the _Quibbler_. Metaphors are figures of speech where a phrase actually means something else."

A loud crack shocked them out of their in depth discussion and Harry Potter was set upon by a small olive colored house elf by the name of Dobby.

"Harry Potter is alive! Harry Potter is alive! Minister of says it was so and it is!"

He hugged the house-elf back and smiled down on him. "Hello Dobby. How have you been?"

Dobby was bouncing around the room and ran by everyone kissing them, to their discontent. 

"Minister says Mistress Samantha wakes Harry Potter up from his sleep." He stopped and knelt before Samantha. "Mistress Samantha is as great a witch as her father is a wizard. With a mere touch she awakens the great Harry Potter!"

Samantha blushed at Dobby and his mouth stretched wide with a toothy smile the he bounded up and around to Harry once more. "Your home is ready Harry Potter."

He was surprised at the house-elf. "So soon, Dobby? I figured it would take you a day or two at least."

The house-elf looked offended. "I is not letting the home of the greatest wizard in the world go unclean Harry Potter, Sir. I is knowing one day Harry Potter's home would go to his daughter. So's I'll I need to do is uncover the furniture and make room for Samantha Potter."

Harry looked properly chastened. "I'm sorry for ever doubting you, Dobby. I'm sure everything is in order."

He was redeemed in the eyes of the happy house-elf. "Should we expect you and the mistress home for dinner, Harry Potter?"

He looked at his watch and found out he wasn't wearing one.

"It's 4:30, Daddy."

"We'll be home at five, Dobby. You can have dinner ready anytime after that."

Dobby straightened his hat. "It shall be done, Sir."

Samantha jumped up. "Thirty minutes! I have to go pack."

Dobby stopped her. "Winky is packing for Mistress. And she is sending pretty owl too."

Harry leaned down. "Dobby, exactly how many hose-elves are working for me?"

"Just Dobby and Winky sir. The rest are not free house-elves just yet, Sir."

"The rest?" asked Harry.

"Dobby's children, Sir. Fifteen children Dobby and Winky have, Harry Potter, and we is hoping you will give them clothes."

"Fifteen," Ron choked. "Well, I guess everything will be very clean around the house."

Harry kept blinking at the thought of having fifteen house-elves just like Dobby running around. "I'd be happy to give them clothes, Dobby."

Samantha covered her mouth with worry. "Oh, you poor thing. You don't have any clothes?"

This time it was Dobby that gave her a strange look, which for a house-elf was a major accomplishment. "Dobby has clothes, Mistress."

"My daughter has only been in the wizarding world for a few days, Dobby. She doesn't understand the servitude of the house-elves."

"Servitude?" Samantha's forehead wrinkled. "You mean they're slaves?"

Harry nodded and she was on her feet in less than a second. "Daddy!" she almost yelled very crossly. 

"Oh no," Ron said quietly.

Harry smiled thinly, his eyes sparkling. 

"You can't have slaves working for you! I thought Dobby was your friend or Uncle Ron's friend or something, but a slave? We've got to do something about this."

"Excuse me," Harry said and made quickly for the door, hiding his face.

"Daddy, don't leave. We have to do something." She raced around the table, but Ron stopped her at the door.

"Samantha let him have a few minutes."

Mystification painted her face. "Why? What are you talking about?"

He sighed deeply. "Your mother was very active for house-elves rights. After she found out about how they serve us she almost went on a crusade to free them all." He paused for a moment. "It was almost like seeing her all over again. I'm sure your father thinks the same, and for him, Hermione's death was yesterday."

She paled. "Oh, my goodness. What have I done?"

"Mistress, do not be angry with Harry Potter. He has freed Dobby by tricking wicked Master to give Dobby clothes."

Samantha looked down. "I'm not mad at him, Dobby. I have to go see how he is, Uncle Ron."

He nodded. "Remember something, Samantha. I'm sure you remind him very much of your mother. There will probably be a lot of times like this. 

Her lips thinned in firm resolve. "Yes, Sir."

She was out the door with a shot, running upstairs as fast as her legs would take her. Harry stood at the top, wiping his eyes when she ran full long into his arms. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

He choked a laugh out. "You didn't do anything, sweetie. It just took me back ..."

"To momma," she said matter-of-factly. 

"Yeah," he sniffed. "It was like watching her all over again."

She squeezed him tightly. 

"She would have been so proud of you." He took a deep breath and steeled himself. "Would you feel up to seeing her grave, tomorrow?"

Samantha closed her eyes and nodded in his chest, not saying anything.

After consoling themselves for a few more minutes they proceeded back down the stairs and said their goodbyes, exchanging promises of dinner sometime in the coming week. Dobby had already gone, and Samantha gave Little Harry a hug and a kiss on the cheek under her father's raised eyebrow.

Traveling by Floo Powder was becoming much easier with practice. The swirling feeling in her stomach and head was gone moments after arrival at her new home. The formal lounge was nothing like she expected. Two very elegant armchairs saddled an ornate couch directly in front of the fireplace. 

The cheery-wood furniture: end tables, curio cabinet, and armoire accented the room tastefully. Behind the couch the room opened into a long hall, left and right. Samantha was about to explore when the fire whooshed, announcing her father's entrance.

He blinked a couple of times and looked around the room, his expression unreadable and solemn. His eyes eventually stooped on his daughter standing half-in/half-out of the hallway, and his lips turned upward briefly. 

"Go ahead, explore."

Her eyes sparkled and she was off to the left. The door at the end of the hall resulted in the official entrance to the house. She paused briefly to take a quick look outside and the tree line about a hundred yards ahead then closed the door. She turned right and ran upstairs. The second floor was almost totally open with each wall lined in matching cherry-wood bookshelves. The carpet was thick Gryffindor garnet. 

"Oh, wow."

Her lips felt suddenly dry and she licked them as she looked around at the hundreds of books. In the middle of the room was a large table with four comfortable looking chairs that she thought would be ideal for studying or homework, but since Hogwarts was a boarding school that would be out. 

"Maybe for summer and holidays."

"What's that?" asked her father who was standing behind her.

She spun around, grinning ear to ear. "This room is amazing. It'll take me forever to go through all of these books."

Harry smiled with a bit of melancholy. "Hermione loved her books."

Samantha followed the titles of the first set of shelves. "I guess I inherited that from her too." She smiled goofily. "There are some really weird titles here. _Travel with Trolls_." 

Pulling the book out carefully she looked at the cover at the almost completely filled with a curly-haired blonde wizard. Her eyebrow raised. "Is this guy full of himself or what? What's with the million dollar smile?"

"That's Gilderoy Lockhart. He's a ponce and a fake." Harry took the book and shelved it. The stuff in it is all true, but he didn't do any of it. Stole almost all of it from other wizards and then used a memory charm on them so they would forget."

Samantha looked down remembering something. "Lockhart, isn't that the guy who tried to zap you and Uncle Ron in the Chamber of Mysteries?"

"Chamber of Secrets, and yes, that's the same one." 

She frowned. "I get them confused. I memorize things better if they're written. You didn't, by chance, write down everything you did, did you?"

Harry chuckled. "No, I wasn't one to have a journal, that was your mother."

That froze her for a moment. "Momma had a journal?"

He smiled and nodded. "Several." Crossing the room to the opposite side he waved his hand along and entire floor to ceiling stack of shelves with different sized books of varying colors and widths. 

"All of these are hers?" she said in awe. 

He nodded. "Each shelf is a different year at Hogwarts. And the top shelf over here has the rest."

Her eyes were wide with eagerness. "Daddy, do you mine if I ..."

He didn't even let her finish and reached up to pull the first three journals down. "She wrote them for you, Samantha. Well, not at first, but later she wanted you to have them when we found out about she was carrying you."

She took the journals with reverence and looked down the wall to the left. "What are those?"

"You're in luck. Everything from here down is all her work from Hogwarts?"

Samantha's mouth twisted and puckered to the side. "Work?"

He nodded. "Homework assignments, quizzes, projects, tests. The red ones are her prep-work for O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s with the actual tests at the end."

"You have to prep for an owl?"

Harry laughed. "O-W-L, Ordinary Wizarding Level, and the N.E.W.T.'s stand for Nastily Exhausting Wizard Test. You take them fifth and seventh years, respectively. They determine what field of work you are most suited for."

She thought it over for a moment. "Did she do well?"

"Yeah, she was the most clever student Hogwarts had in over fifty years. Scored an Outstanding in every course she took. Had her whole life ahead of her. Could do anything that she ever dreamed of." 

Samantha hugged the journals to her chest. "Then I'm gonna be just like momma."

Harry knelt down and took her in his arms. "You do whatever you want, Samantha. I'll be proud of you with or with out perfect scores on your tests."

"Harry Potter, sir," announced Dobby who had just popped in behind them. "Dinner is served."


	5. Into the Forest

Chapter 5

Samantha awoke the next morning trying in vain to keep her eyes closed for she knew if she opened them that she'd be in her bed back in Houston. Cracking open one eye she followed the turn of the eggshell white wall to the Firebolt Mark IV propped up in the corner behind the door.

The window shades had been drawn open to let the morning light through, and she smiled at the beginning of a new day with her father. After her morning constitution she found a set of clothes and robes. They were a little conservative for her tastes, but considering what they would be doing for the day, Samantha didn't mind so much. 

Breakfast was a quiet affair and her father didn't look like he had slept much. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and his lids a bit swollen. He had put up a courageous smile for her when she entered the breakfast room adjacent to the kitchen. 

"Morning, Daddy," she said with cheer.

"Good morning, Samantha. How was your first night at home?"

She sat herself at the table, smoothing her robes and skirt underneath and helped herself to a biscuit-looking thing in front of her, breaking it open as she spoke. "It was great. I got through the first three of momma's journals." 

Harry was in mid-bite with a fork full of eggs. "Already?"

She nodded as she spread orange marmalade inside the biscuit-looking thing. "Yeah. I'm only up to the end of October of first-year. She certainly had a lot to say about Hogwarts, you and Uncle Ron. I don't think she like him much at first."

Harry smiled wistfully. "They used to get on each other's nerves for the first ... um ... well pretty much all the time, actually, but we were the best of friends after the troll."

"Troll?"

"Don't know about the troll, then?"

She swallowed her first bite and shook her head a little. "No, sir."

"Probably next thing you read. It was at the Halloween feast. An agent of Voldemort let in a troll and it got into the girls bathroom. Your mum was in there at the time?"

Samantha was frozen in place. "What happened?"

"I stuck my wand up it's nose and Ron levitated the troll's club and knocked it out."

Samantha rolled her eyes and lifted her biscuit to her mouth. "If you don't want to tell me," she said dryly, "then just say so. You don't have to make silly things up to say. I'm not eight years old or anything."

Harry laughed to himself. "You're right. I shouldn't tease you with made up stories."

She nodded. "Really, Daddy. I mean three eleven year olds and a troll? I would have been screaming and running down the hall."

He looked at his daughter. "Read up on trolls. then?"

She nodded. "I bought a few extra books when we went school shopping."

"And finished them all already? Memorized and everything?"

"Don't be silly," she scoffed. "Of course not. I've only memorized the ones that I've read twice."

He blinked a few times. "Of course. How stupid of me."

Samantha brushed her hands off onto the plate . "You shouldn't call yourself stupid, Daddy. It's very self-depreciating and not good for one's ego."

A smile stayed on his face. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. I learned all about it on talk shows." 

"Well then I guess then it's true, isn't it?"

Samantha nodded. "Are we go see momma this morning?"

Harry almost knocked over his coffee when his hand twitched, but only succeeded in sloshing some over the side. He mopped at the spill with his napkin. "Um ... yeah. Is right after breakfast okay with you."

She drained the glass of pumpkin juice. "Yeah, sure. Is it around here?"

"Hogwarts," he simply said. 

Samantha's eyebrows shot up. "Are we gonna take the train?"

Harry smiled. "Floo."

He stood up and crossed to the hallway, out of sight for a moment and then returned. "Right-handed?"

Samantha nodded. 

"Give me your left arm."

She did as told and Harry slipped up her robe and the sleeve underneath. 

"Cool, bracelet?" she asked.

He reached to his back pocket and withdrew a knife set into a leather sheath. "No, something a little more practical." It turned out to be a wrist sheath and he began strapping it to the back of his daughters forearm. "Dumbledore said your mum was buried in the Forbidden Forest. You never go into the forest unless you are armed in some way. Since you don't know any defensive spells, it's best to have a weapon in case something gets a little too close."

She frowned. "Daddy, I do know a few spells already. I just haven't had a chance to practice them yet ... practically anyway."

"Well since it's still against the law for you to be doing magic we'll work with the Muggle alternative." 

Once the sheath was secure he unsnapped the restraint and slid the knife out. "I had it made with as much silver content as possible and still be functional."

He ran finger very close along the edge. "It's magically enhanced and sharper than anything you've ever seen, so be very careful."

"Wow," Samantha said with muted awe. "Grandma and Grandpa wouldn't even let me have a tiny Swiss Army knife. This is wicked-cool."

Harry smiled at that. "Just make sure that it stays in that sheath unless it's needed."

She took it and slid it home, snapping the restraint closed and sliding her sleeve down followed by her robes. Turning her arm back and forth, she admired how it couldn't be seen at all. 

"Ready?" asked Harry.

Stepping out of the community floo at Hogsmeade, Samantha looked around taking in the small wizarding village with their many shops just opening for the day. She adjusted her backpack and jumped only slightly when her father Apparated beside her with a loud crack. 

"It's this way," Harry indicated with a wave of his hand down to the entrance to High Street.

Samantha took her father's proffered arm as her eyes scanned the buildings. From the lack of hustle and bustle, Hogsmeade was obviously not near as busy as Diagon Alley, but it was just as interesting from the perspective of and eleven year old witch that had been living with Muggles for all of her life.

The two of them received more than a few stares as they walked down the middle of the street. An older witch that was opening the doors to her little cafe gasped and covered her mouth in shock as she saw them, then turned and ran back inside.

"Why is everyone acting so weird?" asked Samantha.

Her father's eyes had never left a forward looking direction. "I suppose it's because I'm supposed to be dead."

"Oh ... right."

They followed the cobblestone road through the gates of Hogwarts and around the lake spotting the Quidditch pitch to the left and down the slope of the hill. Samantha's attention was riveted to the undulating grounds until the full majesty of the castle was revealed.

"Is that it?"

Harry remembered seeing Hogwarts for the first time from the boats that crossed the lake at night was probably the best way to be introduced to the true magic of the school where he spent the following seven years. I retrospect, however, he was always in awe of its sheer grandeur and the look on his daughters face told him she felt the same.

"Welcome to Hogwarts."

She looked back and forth between her father and the enormous structure before her. "It's a castle." Then she paused for a moment. "I mean I know it's a castle, but I didn't think it was _actually_ a castle-castle."

Harry was a little confused. "Is there some other kind?"

She gave him a firm arched eyebrow as if she were being talked down to. "Well, back home there's this entertainment park that kinda looks like a castle, but you can tell it's fake. Inside it's like any other building."

He nodded in understanding. "Well, I think you're in for a treat. Hogwarts is a magic castle complete with hidden chambers, secret passageways ..."  


Samantha continued for him. "Moving staircases, talking portraits, animated suits of armor, enchanted ceilings and a whole lot more."

She smiled up at him. "I read three of mom's journals, remember. I already know what to expect in some areas."

He swept his arm out in a grand gesture. "Then you won't mind escorting me to the headmaster's office? We're supposed to be meeting a few people before we head into the forest."

She tugged on his arm. "Daddy, momma never got in so much trouble that she got sent to the headmaster's office in her first year. I don't know where it is."

Harry laughed. "Very true, and I spent far too much time in there for one reason or another. Come on, I'll show you a few tricks I learned."

The surrounding area was extremely quiet, the only sounds being the wind and the occasional bird flying by. He had never been at the school when there weren't at least a hundred or so teachers and students milling about. The halls were equally devoid of any natural life. It was almost like they were the only live people in existence, in a way. 

Harry escorted his daughter down to the empty corridor that ended with a stone gargoyle facing outward, frozen in a thoughtful pose. Before Harry even tried to guess the password, the Gargoyle leapt aside and they ascended the revolving staircase. 

"Cool, magical escalator," Samantha commented.

They were met at the top of the stairs by the headmistress of the school.

"Professor McGonagall ... ," Harry started but didn't finish before Minerva leaned in and lightly hugged him. 

He had never known the professor to display more than a passing modicum of emotion in the past and the small hug was unexpected but well received.

"It's good to have you back among the living, Potter."

Harry smiled at her welcome. "Good to be back, Professor."

Minerva looked down at Harry's daughter. "And this must be the new first-year that Minister Dumbledore has been telling me about."

Harry put his arm around the girl's shoulder. "Professor McGonagall I'd like you to meet my daughter, Samantha."

Samantha stepped forward slightly. "Pleasure to meet you, Professor."

McGonagall's thin lips curved slightly upward. "And I, you, Miss Potter." Then back up to Harry, "Remus will be by shortly if you care to have a seat."

Harry nodded and ushered Samantha to one of the two seats in front of the headmistress's desk, and all the while he was taking in the minor changes of the office. He wasn't surprised to find Dumbledore's portrait included among the past headmasters of Hogwarts and even noticed him giving Harry a knowing smile in return to his own. 

Gone were Dumbledore's silver instruments that were located on the small table to the right and in their place sat a small potted plant. The books that used to line one wall similarly were replaced with McGonagall's own. The most marked change was the absence of Fawkes, and in his place perched a Charcoal Grey owl with his head tucked under one wing, fast asleep.

"Looking forward to your first day here, Miss Potter?" began McGonagall. 

"Yes, ma'am. Very much."

McGonagall smiled thinly as she took her seat. "May I offer either of you some refreshment?"  


Harry shook his head. "No, thank you, Professor. We've had breakfast before we arrived."

"Very well." She clasped her hands in front of her on the desk and became somewhat serious. "I have a request that I would like you to fulfill Mr. Potter."  


Harry nodded shortly. "If I can."

"Please return my Deputy Headmaster to me in one piece after you are through with him in the Forbidden Forest."

Harry cracked a smile. "I hadn't planned on doing otherwise, Professor."

McGonagall drew herself straighter in her chair and tilted her head down, peering over her glasses in a very reminiscent look of the previous headmaster. "That is usually when _plans_ tend to go astray with you, Potter." 

He was about to rebut only to be cut off by a voice at the door. 

"I knew Dumbledore was telling the truth ... but ..."

Harry stood and spun to the door at the same time to the voice of the last remaining connection to his parents and Sirius Black, and an unofficially adopted member of his family in his own right, Remus Lupin. He had expected to find a Professor Lupin in any other way than he appeared at the moment: almost younger than he remembered. 

Gone was the salt and pepper hair now with only a small bit of grey on the sides. His face no longer showed the stressed and perpetual look of the aftereffects of his inner wolf. he looked his age for once, what Harry guessed was now his mid-forties. 

Lupin's mouth hung open as he took in his once-lost "nephew."

"You look exactly the same, Harry."

He didn't waste anymore time and took Harry in his grasp, holding him tightly and whispering into his hair, "I thought we'd lost you forever, that night."

Lupin opened his eyes, realizing that he had just closed them to relish the feel of a second chance wish come true, and saw the little girl standing patiently behind her father. He pulled back and took in. 

"I know you," she said matter-of-factly. 

A wry smile crossed Lupin's lips. "Hello, Samantha."

Her father stepped aside. "You two know each other?"

She looked up at Harry. "He's the 'coffee guy'."

"Yes, I am. You have a very good memory," Lupin answered. 

Harry was a little more than confused. "Coffee guy?"

Lupin nodded, "I see an explanation is in order." He motioned to the chairs and conjured one for himself as McGonagall looked on, humor showing on her face. Once he had seated himself he continued. 

"Ever since Samantha was born I've kept an eye on her." His eyes tracked back to the young girl. "At least once a month I've traveled to the States and looked in on her. Most of the time she was in the care of her grandparents, young and happy." He smiled contently.

"One day about six months ago I was sitting at an outdoor cafe, which was on her particular route home from the local Muggle school she attended."

Samantha edged forward, wanting to get in on the explanation. "Timmy Roberts blew passed me on his skateboard and knocked me down."

Harry frowned at that.

"It was an accident. He apologized," she reassured her father. "But I ripped a new pair of jeans and skinned my knee." She pointed at Lupin. "Coffee guy -- or Professor Lupin helped me."

"I encouraged the manager of the cafe to lend me his first aid kit and bandaged her knee; it was nothing," Lupin finished. 

"So you were, like, stalking me?" Samantha said kind of seriously.

Lupin was immediately taken aback. "Of course not -- I only had your best interests at ..."

At her cracked smiled he halted his explanation.

"Ah, you're teasing me." And then to Harry, "Are you sure she isn't Sirius' missing love child?"

"Remus!" McGonagall scolded.

Harry grinned. "Quite sure. She's so much like Hermione it's scary." He paused for a moment. "Which brings us full circle as to why we are here."

Lupin nodded solemnly. "Come to visit the mausoleum I'm guessing."

Harry stood up and took Samantha's hand. "Will you take us there, Remus?"

Lupin's lips firmed. "There's something you need to know first."

It didn't seem to matter as to what Lupin had to say, Harry was determined to leave the office. "Tell us on the way."

Lupin gave McGonagall a knowing and regretful look before following. 

A very cool breeze rushed up to greet them when they exited the castle; one that usually foretells an ill omen. 

"Are you warm enough, Samantha?" Harry asked.

She nodded as she took in the grounds once more. 

"What's the bad news, Remus?"

Lupin withdrew his wand. "The mausoleum is being guarded by Aragog children."

Harry stiffened at the mention of the Acromantula that he and Ron encountered once before in the Forbidden Forest during their second year.

"Who's Aragog?" asked a curious Samantha.

"He's a giant spider," Harry answered. "You said his children? Should we get Hagrid to see us through?"

Lupin looked down. "Harry, Hagrid's dead."

Samantha watched as her father closed his eyes slowly, with a pained look on his face. 

"How?" he whispered.

"Lucius Malfoy ... led him on a chase through the forest while we were rounding up the last of the Death Eaters after you killed Voldemort.

"The Centaurs wouldn't let Hagrid pass and ... well, you know Hagrid." Lupin paused. "He and Bane have had it in for each other ever since their run in over Firenze."

Harry turned to the Assistant Headmaster. "Are you saying the Centaurs killed Hagrid?"

"In a way. The incident split the Centaur clan into two separate factions. There were a certain number of them that saw Hagrid as someone who cared for all types of creatures ..."

Samantha watched her father's face as it began to redden and saw him interrupt Lupin.

"Is Bane still alive?" he almost growled.

Lupin's face hardened. "The Ministry forbad any interference in Centaur affairs. They didn't view Hagrid as a wizard, saying he brought it upon himself or some such rot."

"What about Grawp?"

Lupin shook his head. "He was sent back to the Giants. After he found out about what happened he went on a rampage through the forest. He was uncontrollable."

Harry reached into his robes and withdrew his wand. "And Dumbledore let it go? The Order let it go? You let it go? Let them kill Hagrid, send Grawp off, and let them live on in the forest without justice?"

Lupin was reserved in his reply. "Harry you don't know what it was like after the war. There were too many things to deal with at the time. Death Eaters were running scared, committing horrible atrocities, the public was still unsure whether or not Voldemort was truly dead this time. The Ministry was being blamed for not acting quick enough to quell the threat."

He saw Harry's face and changed the direction of his argument. "I'm not excusing what was done ..."

"I've heard enough." Harry turned to Samantha and knelt. "Luv, I want you to stay here, in the castle. Remus will look after you. I have to go take care of a bit of old business and make sure the way is safe for us before we can see your mum, okay."

She pinched her lips and ground her teeth. "I want to go with you."

He shook his head. "It's too dangerous and you don't know and offensive or defensive spells yet."

"I do too! I've read my books -- I know enough," she said in protest.

He smiled, seeing so much of his former love in the face of his daughter. "I'm sure you have, but this is something I have to do alone. I owe Hagrid more than I can explain to you right now."

He stood up and turned to Lupin. "Take care of her Remus, I won't be long."

"Harry, Hagrid wouldn't want ..."

"Don't make me stun you, Remus," he warned. "Just keep an eye on Samantha."

Lupin's face fell. "I always have."

"I know."

Her father took off at a brisk run down the mountainside to the edge of the forest and disappeared into the trees before Samantha acted. 

"You can't let him go into there by himself."

Lupin kept watch on the tree line. "I've known your father for many years, Samantha, and if there's one thing you'll learn is he will always do what he thinks is right, be damned the consequences."

Samantha drew her own wand. "I guess it runs in the family, then."

"Hmm?" Lupin said as he turned.

"_Stupefy_!"

A bright jet of red light shot forth from her wand for the first time, stunning the assistant headmaster to the ground.

"Oh my god!" Samantha exclaimed. "It really worked!"

She looked down at the fallen friend of her father and then back up at the forest. "Sorry, sir," she apologized and ran off in search of her father. 

Authors Note: I don't update to FF.net very often as access is a pain in the butt when I want to update, usually during peak times. Instead I set up a list at Yahoo. You can find the address by clicking on my name at the top of the page and viewing my profile. 

By joining that list you get to see all the stories I am writing, usually seconds after I post them and you don't have to go through the silly "Story does not exist", "Server is too busy", or the billions of popup ads that ff.net is littered with.

It's free to access and the members list is private so you won't be receiving any spam either. I hope to see you there


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